Church Bells
by TheGirlWithTheDinosaurTattoo
Summary: The Browning Sisters are just starting to get their feet under them after their world fell apart, but not without a lesson or two about the civilian world. Grace and Serendipity are learning that not all monsters are supernatural and decide to take matters into their own hands. Set before they meet the Winchesters, this story is rated T for now, but will be updated for violence.
1. Chapter 1

:: I'm back! I am currently recovering from my c-section after giving birth to my daughter and finally have time to edit and post while I am on maternity leave. I've missed all of you dearly and can't wait to start another adventure here. This is 'Church Bells', a Browning Sister Saga where our girls learn that not all monsters are supernatural. I have rated this story T so far, but trigger warning: this story begins with domestic violence and will probably get its rating changed as the story progresses. Thank you all for your reads and comments! I can't wait to hear what you think. Thanks so much for the follows as well.

Love and internetty hugs,

The Girl With the Dinosaur Tattoo::

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Chapter 1

Grace had no idea where the phrase 'Indian Summer' originated, but she knew it was her least favorite thing in the world. Kansas was hot this September, hotter than it had been all year, and she wanted nothing more than to fall into an ice cold lake, or, better yet, move back to Portland where the temperature never climbed much higher than seventy-two degrees.

Glancing over at her sister, Grace took a deep breath and pushed the portable table fan closer towards Serra's end of the table. Her little sister handled heat worse than she did, so she knew that rather than hearing her complain about the sweat that was beading on her forehead, Grace would sacrifice a few seconds of cool breeze.

"Oh my God," Serra sighed, closing her eyes as sweat dripped down her cheek. "What the hell?"

"I know," Grace answered, nodding slowly as the fan oscillated back towards her face. "It's awful."

Leaning forward without touching the table's surface, Serra took a deep breath and lifted her dark eyebrows. "Let's go to the grocery store and just sit in the freezer section until they kick us out."

"We did that yesterday," Grace replied, pushing a damp strand of blonde hair back into her ponytail. "They're not going to let us shop there anymore."

Shrugging as the fan turned to face her once again, Serra sighed. "Who cares? It's not like we have any money to spend anyway."

"I'll get my first paycheck soon," the elder said, standing from the dining room table. "I subbed a lot this month and I'll be willing to bet we'll have enough to turn the gas back on."

"Awesome," Serra responded sarcastically. "So we can use the stove in this heat?"

Putting her hands on her hips, Grace tilted her head. "Look, I'm as miserable as you are, so stop complaining about it and get another job. Maybe you can help pay for things instead of bitching about when they get shut off."

"Hey," Serra spat, narrowing her dark hazel eyes at her sister. "I had a job and they fired me for no good reason."

"Eating the French fries out of customers' orders was a good reason, Serra."

The vibration of a cell phone forced both girls to turn and watch as a phone danced across the countertop. Grace reached out and flipped it open, glancing at the screen before looking up at her sister. "It's for you," she commented, tossing it across the room.

Grace Browning was finally starting to get her feet under her after a lifetime of uncertainty. She and her sister, Serendipity, had been immersed in the dark world of monster hunting for as long as they both could remember. For the first two decades of her life, their father had trained both she and Serra in weapons, defense, religious and mythological lore in order to keep the civilian population safe from the things that went bump in the night.

They had lost their mother long ago and more recently, their father had been murdered and the only mother that Serendipity remembered had been discovered dead. The sisters had struggled to put the pieces of their fractured lives back together and go on without them, but without the basic knowledge of civilian life, Grace had found it difficult to find order in their lives. She had no idea how to conduct the normal parts of a twenty-three-year-old's life. She had no idea what the difference between full-coverage and liability-only meant when it came to car insurance, but she could easily tell the difference between a wendigo and a rougarou and how to kill both. Serra had no clue what she was going to do now that she had graduated high school, but she could dismantle and reassemble her twin Colt forty-fives in under three minutes.

It was difficult, having such a wide array of now seemingly useless skills, especially when they were trying their best to become functioning members of society.

Grace poured herself a glass of water and turned to watch Serra as she spoke quietly on the phone. Serendipity flicked her dark hazel eyes to meet her sister's pure blue gaze and lifted one of her eyebrows carefully.

"What?" Grace mouthed, furrowing her eyebrows.

Serra closed her eyes and shook her off, so Grace took another drink and waited patiently. Finally, the younger flipped the phone closed and set it on the table, standing without explanation.

"Sere, what?" Grace repeated, following her sister out of the kitchen and into the living room. "Who was that?"

Throwing things into her dark brown leather bag, Serra took a deep breath through her nose, clenching her jaw tightly. Grace watched carefully and as she was about to reach out to take the memories from her sister's mind with her psychic abilities, she turned and took a ragged breath. "That was Gemma," she grunted. "I'm going to go pick her up."

"Why?"

"Because she needs me to," Serra replied, still throwing her belongings into her purse.

"Serendipity, stop," Grace commanded, pulling Serra's purse out of arm's reach. "What is happening?"

"Give me my bag."

"Not until you tell me what is happening."

Serra took a deep breath through her nose, but refused to make eye contact. "I told her that guy was bad news," she whispered. "I had a bad feeling about him from the very beginning."

"Tell me," Grace pushed.

Serra collapsed on the couch behind her and wiped the hair that was stuck to her forehead out of her face. "Gem started dating this asshole about three months back," she began. "He was really possessive of her…touchy about details being told about their relationship."

"And?"

Finally making eye contact, Serra stared up at her sister. "Stephen pushes her around. Doesn't like it when she talks to other guys." She shook her head slowly. "Thinks her boss at the dry cleaners has some crush on her and he watches her sometimes at work."

Grace narrowed her eyes, still clutching Serra's leather bag. "So why is she with him?" she asked, tilting her head. "Gemma's smarter than that."

"Why does anyone ever stay in a crappy relationship?" Serra asked. "She loves him. They have," she sighed and lifted her hands, using her fingers as quotation marks, "fun."

"You think he's hitting her?"

Serra lifted her eyebrows. "I know he is."

Reluctantly, Grace offered Serra her purse. "I don't like this," Grace replied quietly. "I don't know if you should be getting involved. We're just starting to figure our shit out, Serra."

"I'm not going to do anything to him," Serra argued, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "She just wants me to come pick her up."

"And then what?" Grace asked, putting her hands on her hips. "What happens after you pick her up and then he comes here, looking for her?" She shook her head as she continued. "Gemma doesn't have any family? She can't call someone else?"

Serra stood from the couch slowly, staring at her sister. "You're telling me that you would have gone to the ends of the earth to save a civilian from a vamp or a djinn, but you're not going to waste your breath on a person being beaten by their boyfriend?"

"Serra, this is a completely different situation. Gemma _chose_ him. She's _choosing_ to stay with him. I don't want this getting in the way of you figuring you out."

Taking her purse and swinging it onto her shoulder, Serendipity spun on the toe of her boot and headed towards the front door. "Don't hurt yourself worrying," she said over her shoulder as she reached for her keys. "I'll be back later."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Serra threw herself into the driver's seat of her pass-me-down Acura and started the car. Knowing that her sister was watching through the front window, she refused to look up and instead, threw her car into reverse, and backed down the driveway. Speeding off down the street, she took a deep breath and turned up the radio, drowning out Grace's words as they floated through her memory.

Serra Browning was not one to ever back down from a fight, but she didn't want to admit that her sister might be right on this one. Fighting monsters was one thing, but humans were a completely different type of evil. There was a certain set of rules you had to follow if you didn't want to land your ass in an all-female maximum-security prison.

She didn't think that Grace had noticed the four-inch switchblade that she had tossed into the depths of her leather bag, but knowing her sister as well as she did, Serra figured that Grace already knew she would never head into foreign territory completely vulnerable.

The drive to the restaurant where Gemma had walked was only about ten minutes from the Brownings' house, and Serra arrived quickly. She parked, slung her purse over her shoulder and headed into the restaurant.

Gemma was sitting near the other door, facing the boulevard, slumped in her seat. As Serra approached, she made sure to have her boots echo on the tile to announce her presence and not startle the civilian. Gem sat up a little straighter as Serra approached, wiping her face with the palm of her hand and sniffling once.

"Hey," Serra greeted, turning and sliding into the booth across from her friend. "You okay?"

Keeping her face hidden with her light blonde hair, Gemma nodded slowly, still sniffling.

"You wanna look up at me?" Serra asked, leaning on the table in front of her. "And tell me what happened?"

"You'll just be mad," Gem replied, still staring at her hands. "I upset him. I shouldn't have said what I said."

Clicking her tongue, Serra glanced at the surveillance camera in the corner of the dining room of the restaurant. Automatically looking away, she turned so that her face was hidden. "Are you seriously defending him?" she asked, leaning forward. "If you're gonna sit there and defend him, then I'm not going to sit here and listen, because you're right. All it'll do is piss me off."

"Serra," Gemma pleaded, suddenly glancing up. "Please."

Flicking her gaze towards her friend, Serra held her face emotionless as she tallied the injuries painted across her alabaster skin. "Please, what?" Serra asked, noting the split across her lip and the purplish color above her left eye. "Calling me every time he hits you is getting old. Just leave him."

"I love him, Serendipity." Gemma licked her lips, flinching slightly when her tongue met the cut on her lip. "I can't explain it, but I just think if I give him another chance…" She shrugged half-heartedly. "I don't know. Maybe he'll change."

"When?" Serra asked. "When he bashes your face in?"

"I just need some time away from him," she sighed, shaking her head slowly. "Please, can I just stay with you and your sister for a few days?"

"Grace doesn't want to get involved," Serra replied. "I'm starting to understand why. You're frustrating as hell. This is the fourth time he's done this."

"It's not the fourth time."

Serra turned to make eye contact with Gemma and tilted her head. "He's hit you for longer," she said, not asking a question.

"We don't need to talk about it."

Serra took a deep breath and folded her arms across her chest, leaning back in the booth. "I'll make you a deal, Gem," she began. "If Grace and I teach you how to defend yourself, you can stay with us a few days."

"I don't need to defend myself, Serra," she whispered. "Stephen loves me. He won't do this again. Thank you for the offer," Gemma stood from the booth and pulled her purse onto her shoulder, staring at her feet. "But I would rather go home and apologize. We can start fresh."

"Gemma, wait," Serra said, standing to follow her friend. "Wait a sec."

Pushing the door open and finding her way out into the parking lot, Gemma disappeared into the heat of the late Kansas summer.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Let me guess," Grace's voice rang out through the house as Serra let herself back in. "She didn't want to fight back."

"Stow it," Serra growled at her as she jogged up the stairs. Feeling the summer heat intensify as she climbed the steps, Serra changed her mind and turned around, unwillingly rejoining her sister in the coolest room of the house.

Grace was sitting at the kitchen table again, the oscillating fan locked onto her face, blowing a steady stream of cool air towards her. "I'm not bragging, Lucky," she sighed, leaning back in her chair. "I just have a habit of understanding people. It's one of my many gifts."

"Why would she go back?"

Shaking her head, Grace shrugged. "Only she'll ever know," she commented. "And until she makes the decision to leave on her own, all you're gonna do is piss yourself off." Changing subjects and leaning forward, Grace pushed that morning's paper towards her sister. "Look, though," she continued, "there's some jobs listed here. Waitress, copy girl, janitorial, babysitter…" Grace glanced up at Serra, lifting her eyebrows. "Anything sound interesting?"

Serra rolled her eyes and shook her head, staring at the newspaper. It was folded in half and as she stared at the print, she couldn't help but rest her eyes on a headline from the other side of the page. All she could read was '—issing four days' but it was enough to catch her interest.

"Did you see this?" Serra asked, unfolding the paper and pointing to the headline. "Those two girls are still missing."

Grace stood from the table, ignoring her sister. "Yeah, and Kansas' finest are on the case," she replied. "Your job right now is to apply to every one of those jobs that are in that classified section and ignore the police scanner you have hidden in your room."

"I don't have a police scanner hidden in my room."

Grace clicked her tongue and shook her head. "Anyway," she pushed on, "that's not our job anymore. Besides, the cops are leaning towards the uncle anyway. He's missing too. His car was found a couple hundred miles away."

Serra was still staring at the newspaper. "That doesn't mean anything," Serra muttered. "He's probably been taken by the same thing that took the girls." She glanced up at Grace. "I'll bet it's a vamp."

"Not everyone that disappears was taken by a monster."

"Are you gonna let me have any wins today?" Serra asked, spreading her hands wide on the table. "Can you try just for a minute to let me have something?"

"No," Grace replied, not missing a beat. "I told you, we are out of the game. We are going legit, especially if you want to keep a roof over your head."

Watching Grace put the dishes away, Serra shook her head. "We were never homeless."

"Living in crappy motel rooms and sleeping in the Chevelle does not mean we had a home. We were nomads, Serra," she sighed. "Don't you want to keep this house? Don't you want to hold onto the one thing in our lives that Dad did right?"

"I want a lot of things, Grace," Serra answered. "I want Stephen to stop beating Gem. I want to hunt what's hunting these girls up in Shenandoah. I want you to get the hell off my back about finding a job."

"It's too bad we don't always get what we want," Grace replied, cynicism dripping through her voice. "I'm tired of carrying you, Serendipity. It's time to stand on your own two feet."

…

"Hi, my name is Serra Browning and I saw your classified about the waitressing job?" Serra listened to the woman on the other end tell her that the position had already been filled. She rolled her eyes as she replied. "No problem. Thank you very much." Serra let the phone close and she set it on the table in front of her, rubbing her face with the palms of her hands.

The newspaper that Grace had given Serra was spread out in front of her with red circles dancing across the tiny print, highlighting the jobs that she figured she was qualified to do. So far, they had all been dead ends, either needing a specific set of skills that she was not able to provide, or she had to be twenty-one to perform.

Slowly, Serra unfolded the newspaper to stare at the photo of the two missing girls. They were young, probably not older than thirteen or fourteen, looking happy with their blonde hair tied up in ponytails as the wind dragged stragglers across their faces. In the background, there was a tidy front yard with a white picket fence, complete with a barn cat and a flowery vine that climbed up the side of the house. As Serra reread the article, she shook her head and sighed. "You don't look like girls that would run away," she muttered to herself. "You're happy."

Flipping the page and continuing the story and map in the following column, Serra pored over the text, searching for information that she may have skipped the first, second, or third time she had perused the article. Her fingers came to rest on the image of the map of Shenandoah, Iowa, where the missing girls were last seen. Their uncle's car had been found across from Rose Hill Cemetery, (he was missing as well, though the media had neglected to give him the same attention as the missing girls) overturned on the overgrown shoulder of the road, with blood found within the vehicle.

Standing quietly from the table, Serra moved silently across the kitchen and through the living room and glanced behind her, waiting for sounds of her sister on the second floor. Figuring that she still had about ten minutes before Grace decided she was too hot to continue putting laundry away, Serra spun the desk chair around and opened her sister's laptop, waiting impatiently for the too-slow internet to load. Finally, the search page opened and Serra tapped the keyboard, entering her search in the URL bar.

Staring at the articles that loaded slowly in front of her, Serra managed to navigate her way through the images that the news vans had loaded to their websites, and finally, she found the image she had been looking for.

The girls' uncle's car was overturned on the muddy shoulder, just as the black and white image showed in the newspaper, but here, it was in full color. There were drag marks in the mud and weeds where the front passenger door had been forced open and it appeared that there had been a struggle for one of the crash victim (whoever they might be) to stand.

Serra clicked on the image to enlarge it and moved closer to the screen, trying to see the open door in low-resolution zoom.

"What are you trying to see?" Grace's voice startled Serra so badly; she practically leapt from her chair.

Whipping around to face her sister, Serra released the breath she had gasped just moments before. "Jesus, Grace. I'm gonna sew bells into your clothes."

"Sorry," she replied unapologetically, lifting her eyebrows. Nodding towards the screen of the laptop, she continued, "Why are you zooming onto the door?"

Slowly, Serra turned back towards the computer and leaned closer towards the computer once more. "I can see something in the window here," she answered, lifting her finger to point at the window of the passenger door. "I don't think this photo was taken by the media. I think it's a still from a security camera, maybe from the cemetery."

"Why does that matter?"

"Because I think that's a reflection."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"I can't believe you talked me into this," Grace muttered as we pulled into the driveway of the Wal-Mart in Shenandoah, Iowa. "We're using the last hundred bucks I have to do a hunt I said we weren't gonna do." She turned towards her sister and sighed heavily, "Chasing a reflection, that if it's a vampire, shouldn't be there in the first place."

"I'm telling you, Grace," Serra argued, staring out the window, "there is something up with this missing person case. It's just weird."

Grace rolled her eyes as she put her bright red hatchback into neutral and turned in her seat to stare at her sister. "We only have enough money for food and gas, so we'd better make this quick. I'm not a fan of sleeping in the car." She set the parking brake and pulled the keys from the ignition. "And if I get a sub call, we're turning around immediately, no fight."

"You've been through all of this already," Serra sighed. "I got it."

Pulling a twenty-dollar bill from her wallet, she nodded towards the Wal-Mart. "Alright, Mighty Hunter, you're lead on this one. If you think it's a vamp, we're gonna need to move. They have short attention spans and it's already been almost a week since those girls went missing. We'll go in here, get some food, and then head out to take a peek at the cemetery." She shrugged as they exited the vehicle. "I don't know what you think we're gonna do from there."

They began the trek to the front doors and sighed in relief when they entered the air-conditioned store. "Twenty bucks," Grace repeated. "Not one cent more."

"God, you're bossy," Serra plucked the bill from Grace's fingers as she strode away from her sister. Turning to face the advertisements, Grace allowed her feet to lead her towards the bulletin board behind her, spurred by her instincts and intuition alone. She examined the posters of adoptable pets, missing cats, and pull-off phone numbers for a local academic tutor. Slowly, she came to an image of the missing girls, smiling happily in the same photo that the newspaper had printed.

In bold print, it read, "Please help bring our daughters home."

Licking her lips, Grace took a deep breath and turned away from their blank stares. She evaluated the people milling about in the store instead. The cash registers beeped continuously and customers did what humans normally did: they kept their polite smiles to a minimum and stared at their hands, waiting for the cashiers to finish their work. Grace was never surprised by human behavior, but she did long for more interaction between them. In a world where she was still an outcast, Grace had always been more comfortable moving silently in the shadows, away from most of the other people. When she was forced to interact with the general populous, she did so with a forced smile on her face, making as much doe-eyed contact as the everyman would allow. Eye contact tended to make people uncomfortable and as a general rule, forced others to give her some space.

Out of her peripheral, she saw a young woman approach her from her left side, trying to be polite by not startling her, but Grace acted the part as she came up to her side.

"Oh, gosh," she faked, jumping to the side slightly, her hand finding her chest. "You scared me."

The employee made an apologetic face and smiled lightly, "I'm so sorry, but do you need help with something?"

Grace shook her head slowly, recovering. "Oh, no," she smiled gently. "Just waiting for my sister."

Nodding politely, the employee glanced at the bulletin board behind her and sighed heavily. "I am too," she whispered, leaning on the wall behind her.

Noticing the sadness that seemed to seep out of her pores, Grace turned to the smaller woman and glanced at her nametag. "Kelli," she began, "are _you_ okay?"

Kelli glanced up at Grace, tears finding her eyes unexpectedly. "What? Oh, I'm fine, thank you," she replied quietly, brushing the tears from her cheeks. "I'm okay."

Staring at her silently, Grace weighed her options. She could either let it go and allow Kelli to continue her shift at Wal-Mart, or she could make physical contact with the younger and find out what emotional connection she had to the poster on the wall behind her. Grace hesitated only long enough to square her feet, preparing for the three seconds that she would not be in charge of her body or her movements.

"Kelli," she began, reaching for her arm, "if there's something you need, I can help you."

Reaching out to close the gap between her fingertips and Kelli's arm, Grace was shoved into the employee's thoughts and memories as if they were her own.

 _Three men approached her while closing up the Wal-Mart late one night as two younger versions of herself waited impatiently at the register across the store. "Hi," Kelli greeted, turning politely towards the taller of the men. "We're about to close up, guys. Is there something I can help you find?"_

 _The tallest one shrugged. "Not particularly," he replied, nodding at the younger two girls. "Looks like we've got everything we need right here."_

 _"What?" Kelli asked, suddenly worried. She eyed her sisters from where she stood, fear seeping into her voice. "Chloe, go get Uncle Len."_

 _The smallest one turned to follow orders, but was blocked by another man, licking his lips greedily. "These two will do," he muttered, turning towards the tallest man. "Let's just grab them and go."_

Grace took a slow breath, regaining control of her body as she came out of Kelli's memories. As much as she hated to admit it, it appeared that Serendipity was right about the abductors being vampires, noting that as she was pulled from the memories, the tallest man's fangs had begun to descend. It didn't explain the reflection in the window, though.

Also, just as usual, Grace's intuition had led them directly to the main party involved with the case. Sometimes, it seemed too easy. She took a deep breath, squashing the memories of her father using her for this exact purpose when they were in full-hunt mode, not so many years ago.

Kelli seemed confused by the interaction she was getting from a woman she had never met before. "I'm sorry, do I know you?" she asked, shaking her head and backing away from Grace. "Are you sure there's nothing I can help you with?"

Grace smiled slowly as Serra entered the cashier line behind them. "Actually," she said gently. "I think we're here to help _you."_

…

"You're what?" Kelli asked, taking a step away from Grace and Serra.

Grace smiled gently, tilting her head. "I'm a profiler for the Iowa State Missing Children Department. This is my sister, Kristen."

"And what does that mean?" Kelli asked, glancing at Serra as she nodded in response. "I have never even heard of that department."

"We're here helping the police department track down your sisters," Grace explained. "We have a couple leads, but we don't want to get your hopes up. We just came to see if there was anything strange that you noticed, leading up to their disappearance."

Kelli shook her head slowly, still not quite believing the words Grace was saying. "No, I mean, not really. Everything I saw, I already told the police."

"Are you sure?" Grace pressed. "It said in the report that a couple of men came to the store late that night. Can you elaborate?"

Serra glanced at Grace, having not been caught up, but knowing enough about Grace and her ability to manipulate a story to just keep her mouth closed and let her sister take the lead. Serra also knew that Grace didn't need to read any police report to get details of the case if this girl Kelli was another sister and watched the abduction happen. She knew that her sister had simply made physical contact and gotten the information that she needed in order to proceed.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Tell me again why we just left her there at the Wal-Mart in such a hurry?" Serra whispered as Grace herded her towards their car. "She's obviously a key witness."

Grace glanced back at the store and shook her head. "I got red flags popping up all over my mind," she grumbled, pulling out her keys and opening the driver's side door. "Something's not right. We need to get this job done."

As soon as they were locked back in the car, Grace cranked the ignition and peeled rubber out of the parking lot, headed for the open road once again. Serra glanced at her sister and waited as patiently as she could.

Finally, as Grace shifted the car into fifth gear, she took a cautious breath and asked, "Gracie? If there's some psychic intuition thing happening, it would be nice if you let me in on it." Serra watched the trees whip past Grace's window as she lifted her eyebrows. "What did you see?"

"They're not all vamps," Grace stated. "They're recruiters. There as a tall one; he was a vampire, but the others…the second time I touched Kelli, I saw that the others weren't even fangs. They were people. I get the feeling that they round up the meals for the coven just to keep from being meals themselves." Grace took a breath and clicked her tongue. "It's why there was a reflection in the overturned car. He wasn't a vampire."

"So the girls are already dead?"

Slowly shaking her head, Grace replied, "I don't know, but my instinct says no." She glanced at Serra and relaxed into the seat a bit as she continued. "I read an article awhile ago by this academic in Europe that said that ancient cultures sometimes used lures to attract people for human sacrifice."

Serra shrugged, "I don't get the connection."

"It's a lot easier to follow a pretty girl in a bar than it is to kidnap someone."

"Oh, shit," Serra breathed. "The vamps are keeping the girls to lure other people into being meals?"

"Sure," Grace agreed. "Think about it. You get them young, brainwash them into thinking that doing what you say is right and you've got yourself a meal ticket while they're young and desirable."

Serra shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she processed this information. "Honestly, it sounds a lot like what Dad used to use you for."

Grace didn't reply.

"What about the uncle?"

She shrugged using only one of her shoulders. "Blackmail," Grace answered. "Do what we want or we kill your uncle."

Turning so she was staring out her own window, Serendipity whispered, "We have to take them out."

"I'm working on it."

…

Grace lowered the hatchback silently and motioned to Serra to fall in step with her as they jogged around the perimeter wall of the cemetery. She approached the lower half of the wall, using her hand to steady herself as she peeked over carefully, attempting to not be blinded by the rising sun.

From her vantage point, there were two security cameras in sight. One was just over the hill, attached to the main building where, Grace assumed, the media had pulled the image that Serra had inspected so thoroughly. The other was facing away from the sisters, overlooking the cemetery grounds.

She turned back towards Serra and whispered, "You do _not_ discharge your weapons. We are going silent on this, especially during the day. If we get caught, you ditch what you can and meet me at the gas station on Seventh."

Nodding, Serendipity agreed. "Are we engaging? Or is this just recon?"

"We have twenty-two hours until I have to be back in a classroom. This is grasping at straws and getting the job done." She glanced back at the main entrance. "The cemetery doesn't officially open until ten, so we have a little less than two hours until people start arriving. Hopefully, they're hanging out somewhere on or near the grounds." Grace took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I hate to do this, but we need to split up to cover more ground. I'm going to take the main building and the surrounding areas. You take the riverbanks and hillsides outside of the cemetery. Look for cabins, caves, whatever and if you find something, you call me."

Serra nodded, looking excited.

"You _call me_ ," Grace repeated, lifting her eyebrows. "You are not engaging an entire coven of vamps on your own."

"Yeah, yeah," Serra replied, glancing behind them, towards the riverbank. "Let's go, we're burning daylight."

"Put your ringer on silent," Grace added, moving to jump the wall. "Check in with me in an hour."

"You got it, Boss," Serra whispered as she saluted her sister sarcastically and jogged down the hill towards the river.

…

Serendipity Browning was good at what she did. Hunting monsters had always come naturally for her, but controlling her impulses was not one of her strong suits. Against her sister's wishes, she climbed down the riverbank with both of her twin Colt forty-fives tucked safely into their holsters under her arms. She wore a flannel, covering them to the everyman, but knowing they were with her made her breathe easier. The guns were loaded with pure silver, just begging to be used.

The mud was sticky and wet, layering her boots with a pudding-like mess. Glancing at them as she reached the dryer banks of the river, Serra made a face and shook her head slowly, contemplating the idea of dipping them into the river before the mud dried. A twig snapped in the trees behind her and she froze, her boots forgotten.

Serra turned slowly towards the sound and moved silently through the trees, staying mostly on the sandy shoreline so as not to disturb the leaves and foliage. The birds chirped happily above her and the river babbled to itself as it went on its merry way, but the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she forced herself to listen beyond what nature was telling her. Serra held her breath as she approached the river bend, waiting to see if someone was staring back at her. Using the wide tree trunk as camouflage, Serra curled around it, scanning the shorelines on both sides.

The river was narrow here, the sandbar raising in the middle enough to almost create a bridge across the water. Moving towards the trees again, Serra knelt to inspect the broken branch that had caught her attention only moments before. There had been someone here. She knew it.

She took a deep breath and fought the impulse to pull one of her guns from her holster, instead taking a four-inch Buck knife from the holster on her ankle. It wasn't silver, but it would do enough damage to stall the impending vampire attack. Her silver dagger was sheathed in a holster on her waist, tapping her hip encouragingly with every step she took.

Serra weighed her options: stay on this side of the river, where it became muddier and more dangerous, or cross the river where the sandbar rose in the center and explore the possibilities on the other side. She listened carefully, still trying to pick up any noises that didn't belong, but let out a soft sigh when she didn't hear anything else.

Frustrated, Serra stared at the sandy shore, trying to make sense of the divots and dips in the sand. Grace would be able to read the trail here, she knew. Their father spent as much time training Serra in the art of tracking as he did with Grace, but as he repeated over and over again, she just didn't have the same patience as her sister.

Narrowing her eyes, Serendipity followed the line of impressions across the wet sand with her gaze. There were dips in the sand, evenly spaced, that followed the bend in the raised sand bar. Serra stood from her crouch and followed the line.

The divots were shallow, obviously made from something light. There was also no tread in the markings, meaning either they were made from an animal, which Serra doubted, considering they were in a two-feet pattern, or the person making the impressions was barefoot. As she crossed the sandbar, Serra walked in the water, careful not to splash or leave impressions of her own. She glanced down, hoping to see the trail continue, but smiled to herself when she saw the mud slink off of her boots.

Refocusing, Serra took a deep breath and continued off the sandbar and onto the rocky shore, losing the imprints completely. Pursing her lips, she shrugged halfheartedly and continued down the beach.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Grace watched the security camera slowly scan the cemetery grounds and waited until it was facing away from her in order to sprint across the well-manicured lawn. Finally, the lens faced away from her, towards the back buildings of the property and Grace launched herself over the small retaining wall and took off like a shot, running full tilt towards the main building of the cemetery. From there, she edged her way towards the back door and quickly jimmied her way inside, intent on scanning the security footage herself for something or someone the cops missed the first time.

Taking a deep breath as she shut the door behind her silently, Grace shook her head at the idea of getting caught breaking and entering and what kind of damage it would do to her future. Being so close to actually completing something in her life seemed to tease her, but here they were again, just begging to be arrested and—

A scrape of metal on wood stopped Grace dead in her train of thought. She slinked into the shadows and slid to the floor, ducking behind a desk at the end of the dark hallway. There were voices towards the back of the corridor and glancing at her watch, Grace didn't understand how there could be people here at five thirty in the morning. It was too early for even the janitorial staff.

Creeping as close to the wall as she could, Grace headed towards the male voices she heard. Her pulse was pounding, but she forced it from her ears and extended her senses the best way she knew how.

Closing her eyes, she listened, "—know, just take them all," a harsh, deep voice whispered into the darkness. "There's too many to rifle through right now, and if we get caught, it's my hide. I need to keep this job."

"If you're so desperate for the cash, then you shoulda' kept workin' for us, then," another voice, just as deep answered. "You were pullin' in bank before you decided to go legit."

There was a smell on the air that Grace was all-too familiar with: almost animalistic in nature and heavily metallic. She took a slow breath in her nose and closed her eyes, frustrated. There was a vampire in the office at the end of the hall.

"Taking girls from their families is not exactly what I call a successful career path. Just take your tapes and get the hell out of here."

Grace pressed her lips together and looked around, searching for a place to dip into, hoping to avoid confrontation. This was the last thing she expected, but here they were: a vampire and his inside man. She listened as another drawer was closed and keys were pulled from a lock and pocketed. There was the sound of hard plastic hitting cloth as the security tapes were stacked and put into some kind of bag, and Grace tried each door knob as she got closer and closer towards the office at the end of the hall.

She was out of options. The only door left was next to the open door of the room where the vampire and the janitor stood, still talking quietly.

"This is all of them?" the vamp asked, clearly annoyed. "You told me there wouldn't be any footage leaked to the cops, but I saw the clip of the car clear as day on the news last night. Move like that ought to be punished."

"Zachary, I swear," the other man argued. "I thought I got all the copies. My boss started sending the feed to his email last year when those caskets out back were vandalized."

There was a moment of surprised silence as the vampire seemed to consider his prey. "His email?" he repeated. "Is this all in his email too?"

"No, no," he replied. "He left his email open a few days ago. I destroyed the link."

Grace heard a heavy boot step echo through the empty hardwood and she tensed, still wondering where to go. She didn't have the time to run back down the corridor, and she wanted to make sure she had the right people. Taking a deep breath, Grace pulled the silver, eight-inch blade from her boot and shook her head.

"All right," Zachary sighed. "You're lucky, Gideon."

"Lucky?" he asked, fear forcing his voice an octave higher.

"Yeah," the vampire breathed. "I already ate this morning."

The heavy echoes of his boots rang through Grace's ears as her adrenaline piqued. Time seemed to slow down as Zachary and Gideon came out of the office, shutting the door behind them, Gideon taking the time to lock it with a key from his pocket. Blinking slowly, Grace tilted her head and took a deep breath through her nose.

"What the fuck?" Zachary whispered, turning towards Grace. He considered her momentarily, clutching the canvas bag full of security tapes. "Who the hell are you?"

Flicking her blue gaze towards the corner of the hall where another security camera's lens was pointed in her direction, Grace made a mental note to grab the tape that was rolling at that moment in time when she was finished here, if there was still one in the recorder, that is.

When she didn't answer, Zachary sniffed the air and narrowed his eyes at the elder Browning. "You're a hunter," he said, answering his own question. "If you think you're gonna take me out, sweetheart, you've got another thing comin'."

Grace remained silent, still watching the vampire as he blocked Gideon from view. Zachary's fangs began to descend in anticipation of the fight, and as he lowered his head to attack, Gideon made a break for the door at the end of the hall.

Wasting no time, Grace reached down to her other boot and pulled out a four-inch switchblade and launched it at Gideon. It spun end over end, chasing him down the darkened passageway, and lodged itself deeply in his calf. He hit the ground, writing in pain, holding his leg.

Zachary turned his attention back towards Grace and she shook her head slowly, muttering to herself, "This is _exactly_ why I hate splitting up."

"What?"

Grace rolled her eyes. "Nothing," she sighed, inching forward. "Where are the girls?"

It was Zachary's turn to roll his eyes. "Nowhere a little hunter like you will find them," he sighed. "Unless you'd like to join them?"

She shifted the weight from her right foot to her left foot and did what she could to ignore Gideon's wails of pain. "We can do this one of two ways," she continued, stepping closer to Zachary. "You can dish the location of the nest voluntarily, or," she raised her silver blade and smiled. "We can see what this might drag out of you."

A slow grin dragged its way across Zachary's lips, and he flashed his fangs. "This, I would like to see," he replied, dipping his head and lunging at Grace.

…

Serra stepped around the giant boulder in her path and took a deep breath in through her nose. Closing her eyes, she realized that there was a familiar smell in the air, but she couldn't place it. Stepping lightly into the shore of the river, she climbed around the huge rock and stood in front of a small opening of a cave, too dark to see into.

Clicking her tongue and shaking her head, Serra put her hands on her hips and sighed. "A friggin' cave? Really?" she whispered.

She pressed her tongue against the back of her teeth and stared at her boots, still heavy with mud from the river and weighed her options. Call Grace, and they could come back and investigate it together, or go in alone, against her better judgment, to see what might be lying in wait.

It wasn't that she was afraid of going in alone; Serra was more intimidated by the lecture she would get from her big sister if she willingly went into a cave with no flashlight or backup. She opted for the latter. Turning on her toe, Serendipity headed back the way she came; silently jogging down the beach, back towards the cemetery grounds.

As she ran, Serra pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed Grace's number. As it rang, Serra made sure to keep her other ear focused on the forest around her, never letting her guard down, just in case. Feeling eyes on her back, Serra came to a slow jog and turned, listening hard with her phone away from her face.

"Hi, this is Grace. I'm not available—"

Serra snapped her phone shut and turned to face the direction she came, still hardly breathing. The forest had gone silent as well, listening right along with her as she struggled to hold her breath. Once again, she fingered her guns, wanting badly to pull one, just to make herself feel better, but knowing she wouldn't be able to resist if it came down to a fight, she took her hand away from the grip.

Opening the phone once again, Serra tried her sister's phone number and listened as the other end rang. On the fifth ring, Grace's voice answered again, "Hi, this—" Immediately snapping her phone shut again, Serra took a deep breath, feeling the push of fear against her chest. Grace always answered her phone.

 _Always_.

Turning without another thought, Serendipity tore off into the forest at full speed, no longer worried about making sound as she ran. In no time flat, she was scaling the steep riverbank and sprinting across the street, and back up towards the small cinderblock wall where Grace had gone over when they split up, not more than twenty minutes ago.

She quickly got control of her breathing and stared over the wall, waiting for the camera to face away from her. Once it did, she rolled over the wall and took off again, heading straight for the same door that Grace had entered.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The thuds and voices that carried through the tunnel underground were enough to pique the curiosity of the three vampires that waited for Zachary's return with the security tapes that he had been in charge of retrieving. Exchanging glances, the female tilted her head and stared that the ceiling of the tunnel above her.

"What's happening up there?" she asked, sounding almost annoyed. "What's taking so long with Zach?"

"Maybe Gideon finally got too tempting," the younger male counterpart answered. "Sounds like he's puttin' up a hell of a fight."

The young woman turned towards the grate that led to the janitor's closet in the mortuary. "Maybe we should go up and help Zach."

The older male vampire turned towards her and shook his head. "If you think that Zachary needs help finishing off a meal, you're sorely mistaken," he scoffed. "Zach likes working a bit for it."

She nodded and lapsed into silence, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Another violent thud vibrated through the tunnel, forcing her to stare at the grate. "I don't know, you guys," she answered slowly. "That doesn't sound like things are going well."

The elder vampire rolled his eyes and gestured to the ladder. "Fine, Landry," he sighed. "If you're so bent on finding out what's happening, then go up there and find out."

Landry turned to the other vampires and raised her eyebrows skeptically. "Alone?" she asked, running a hand through her dark hair. "You guys are seriously going to make me go by myself?" She turned to face the younger and gestured with both of her hands. "Clark, you can't make me go alone."

"Holy shit," the older man sighed. "You are the poorest excuse for a vampire I have ever heard of. Just go. Zachary will just be annoyed."

Turning towards the ladder, Landry reached for the first rung and pulled herself up, towards the grate in the bottom of the floor. She pushed gently, trying to lift the grate without making any unnecessary sound. Finally, she managed to slide the metal to the side enough to slip through the opening and creep towards the hall where the voices and loud thumps were echoing through the tunnel below.

Clark, the younger male vampire, followed her up the ladder quietly, but when they both heard the grunt of a female's voice in the dimly lit hall, Landry glanced towards Clark and lifted her eyebrows dramatically at him. "See?" she whispered. "There's something going on."

Bending down against the hole in the floor, Clark whispered, "Eddie, get up here. There's something going on down the hall."

"What?" he whispered back, annoyed.

Clark leaned closer and repeated himself. "There's something wrong!"

Eddie reached for the ladder and pulled himself up and into the dark janitor's closet. Landry pushed open the door, just wide enough to see the movement in the back of the hall. There appeared to be a young blonde woman with a blade, fighting with Zachary, as Gideon watched from the ground, holding his leg.

"Who the hell is that?" Landry asked, pointing.

Eddie pressed his lips together, obviously angry. "A hunter," he whispered, standing to his full height. "I fucking hate hunters. Always getting in the way."

Landry, Clark, and Eddie filed out of the closet and headed towards the hall in order to help Zachary fight the unexpected hunter, their fangs descending as they strode out into the rising sun's glow. From over his broad shoulder, Eddie muttered, "Let's take care of this fast. We're losing the dawn."

They pushed their way through the door and the young woman froze, seeing the new players enter the fray. She took a deep breath and blew the loose strands of blonde hair away from her face, trying to get a grip of the situation.

"Shit," Grace Browning whispered under her breath. She hesitated long enough to consider them and tilted her head. "Where are you coming from?" she asked, exasperated.

"That won't matter in about three minutes," Eddie replied, taking a step towards Grace. "You'll be bleeding by then and we probably won't be able to stop Clark or Zach. They tend to get a little bloodthirsty when it's out there in the open."

Grace took a step back, trying to reevaluate the situation. She had no ability to contact her sister in the midst of the fight, nor could she think of an easy way out of this. "I'm sorry to disappoint them, but they're not getting a drop."

Landry seemed to lose control first; lunging towards Grace with her mouth agape, trying to get her teeth into whatever she could. Grace tossed her to the side quite easily and Landry hit the wall hard, falling to a heap on the floor.

"Next," Grace whispered, steeling herself.

Eddie and Clark approached slowly, glancing at Landry's crumpled form. "Lan?" Clark asked, still staring at Grace.

"She's knocked out," Eddie replied. "Zach, you okay?"

"Yeah," he replied, rubbing his bicep. "She's quick, watch it."

Eddie and Clark split, trying to pin Grace to the back of the hall, against one of the locked doors, but she managed to dodge between them, using Eddie's shoulders to leap-frog over him as he attacked. She dragged her blade across Clark's chest on her way up, getting hisses from both men. Tucking into a roll, she landed on her feet, facing the vamps and holding out her blade.

"Give me the tapes," Grace said quietly. "The tapes and the girls. That's all I want. Then I can be on my way and you don't have to see me ever again."

Zachary lunged at her again, scratching her arm with one of his abnormally long fingernails, but Grace tucked herself against the wall and managed to evade harm. She swiped again with the blade, forcing him to take a step back, almost tripping over Gideon in the process. Grace pushed onward, swiping with her knife, trying to cause as much damage as she could as they made their way into the main room of the mortuary.

…

"Why are locks so hard to pick when you're in a hurry?" Serra muttered to herself as she struggled with the entry door of the mortuary. "You've gotta take your time, Serra," she whispered mockingly, impersonating Grace. "Yeah, well, I don't have 'my time' right now."

Finally, she shoved her way into the dark room and tried to allow her eyes to adjust to the dim. Listening, she heard movement in the back of the building, so as quietly as she could; she jogged to the edge of the room and extended her senses.

"Grace?" she asked into the darkness. "Gracie?"

Serra's call was answered by grunts and a heavy crash. She turned and ran to the end of a corridor, where there were five people besides her sister, all clustered together and apparently fighting for their lives. Two were on the ground, one holding his leg in pain and the other passed out against the wall. Grace was holding her eight-inch blade out defensively and smiling, Serra rushed to join her.

"What'd I miss?" she asked as she jumped over Gideon and brought out one of the twin Colt forty-fives from her shoulder holsters.

Grace turned and shook her head. "I said don't discharge," she lectured as Zachary moved closer.

Serra rolled her eyes. "I'm glad to see you too."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"You have a plan?" Serra asked as she backed up enough to be pressed against her sister, who stared in the opposite direction.

Grace shrugged against Serra's back as she replied, "Don't die?"

"Solid plan," the younger whispered, shaking her head.

Landry looked from the hunters towards Zachary and back at the hunters. "Zachary, what are we going to do?"

The vampires approached on all sides, looking vicious. Zachary tilted his head, considering them and narrowing his eyes. "I haven't had the taste of a hunter in a good few months," he glanced at Landry. "Just wait, baby girl. They are the smoothest veins you'll ever have on your tongue. Making you work for it makes it sweeter some how; I think it's the adrenaline. Velvety, almost."

Serra rolled her eyes, still clutching her forty-five. "Man, you prattle on," she sighed. "Can we just get to it?"

Suddenly from behind her, Eddie launched himself into the air, headed straight for Grace. Immediately spinning out of the way, she pulled Serendipity with her as they rolled across the floor. Serra spun and landed on her feet as she raised her weapon and thumbed the safety off, hesitating only when Grace shouted, "Don't!" Using her entire body, Grace launched the eight-inch silver blade towards their attacker and it buried itself deep into his thigh.

"That was a terrible throw," Serra muttered as she dove towards the female vampire. "If you're going to," she ducked out of the way as Landry's fangs almost made contact with her arm, "throw the only useful weapon you have, don't waste it on his thigh."

"Jesus," Grace grunted as she tossed Landry away from her sister. "I don't see you doing any better."

Reaching up to block Eddie's attack, Serra exposed the three knives that were tucked into her waistband and without hesitating, Grace reached for two of them, hurling them towards the vampires.

The younger male screamed in pain as one of the blades sunk into his neck, forcing the other two males to catch him as he fell to the ground. Eddie leaned over Clark as Zachary lowered him to the ground. "You bitch," Zachary growled as he turned towards Grace, seeing Clarks eyes close with finality.

"Where did you stash the girls?" Grace asked, standing ready for his attack. Serra turned towards him as well, taking the other knife from her waistband. "Just tell us where you took them and we'll let the rest of you walk away."

"Sure," he sighed, shaking his head. "You'll ' _let_ ' us go." Zachary turned towards Clark once more and shook his head. "I might ' _let_ ' you breathe a little longer, just so I can see those pretty hips squirm as I drain the fluids from your body. Might even ' _let_ ' your baby sister watch." He used his fingers as air quotes as he approached the hunters, his head hanging lower, taking a predatory stance. "Maybe I'll turn her and make _you_ watch."

"You just _had_ to find a vampire case," Grace muttered towards her sister. "I really hate vampires."

Serra tilted her head. "They really are a pain in the ass," she answered. "My turn?"

Grace gestured towards the group of fangs, raising her eyebrows expectantly as Serra approached nonchalantly. Without any warning that she was about to make a move, Grace bent her knee, leaning away from Serra as she turned and stepped up onto her sister's knee, launching towards Zachary. Holding the knife over her head with both hands, blade towards his chest, Serendipity closed her eyes as she drove her eight-inch knife into Zachary's chest with all her might. He looked confused at first, clutching the blade's hilt as he sank to his knees. Serendipity bent with him, staring at his face as he collapsed. "I dunno, Zach," she whispered. "Sometimes, _I_ like to watch."

"No!" Landry screamed, dropping to her knees, clutching Zachary around the chest.

Zachary gasped as he dragged in his final breath. Serendipity and Grace Browning turned in tandem towards the remaining vampires and raised one eyebrow apiece. "Now," Serra took a deep breath. "Let's try this again: where are the girls?"

Eddie was consumed with grief as he launched himself towards the sisters, screaming as he ran. Zachary had been like a son to him and the only thing winding its way through his mind was vengeance. His fangs bared, he dived for the hunters, hoping to take down the younger first, forcing the elder to feel what he felt.

Grace tucked herself and rolled across the carpet, trying to make it towards the younger vampire's body to reclaim the silver blade that was still lodged in his neck. Eddie was moving too quickly, though, forcing her to abandon her plan as he scrambled across the floor towards Serra.

Once again, Serra was fingering her gun, trying her best to fight the instinct she had to raise her weapon and fire, but she knew that Grace was right: it would be way too much of a mess to consider shooting the vampire inside the mortuary, but they were running out of options.

"Serra, no!" Grace shouted, running towards Eddie as he lunged at her sister. She tacked him and they both rolled across the floor and Serra turned, intent on finding a silver blade. Jogging towards the fallen vampire, Serendipity tugged the blade from his thigh and shook her head. "No more vampire cases for awhile," she whispered as Landry attacked from behind.

Screaming in her ear, Landry bared her teeth and hissed as she launched them both into the wall behind them, knocking the air from Landry's lungs. "Get off, you bitch!" Serra yelled, slamming herself into the wall behind her again and again. Finally, she managed to loosen the vampire's grip and break free, turning and punching her across the face. Tossing Grace the four-inch blade with her free hand, she shut her eyes as her older sister plunged the blade into the female's eye socket. Screaming in anguish and releasing Serra, Landry collapsed as Grace raised a booted foot and shoved the blade clear through the vampire's head, ending the screech as the silver knife found her brain.

"One more," Grace whispered as Serra nodded once. They turned towards Eddie who looked wrecked with grief. "Last chance, man," Grace stated quietly. "We'll walk if you just tell us where the girls are."

Eddie didn't spend time answering as he flew towards the sisters, fangs bared and growling as he attacked. Serra countered, spinning and dipping to the floor, rolling towards the wall. As she stood, she almost tripped over Gideon, who still lay on the ground, writhing in pain from the blade in his calf. "Dude, I forgot you were here."

Grace held her own against Eddie as she swung the remaining eight-inch silver blade above her head, trying to keep Eddie's teeth away from her face. "Quit socializing and help me," she grunted, glancing at her sister.

Bending towards Gideon's leg, Serra smiled and asked, "Can I borrow this?" as she tugged the blade out of his calf, sending him into another set of wailing screams. "Oh, calm down," she replied, turning towards her sister and the oldest vampire. "Hey, ass wipe," Serra called. "I've got some fresh blood for you. Come and get it."

The scent of Gideon's blood hit the air as he shifted his position on the floor, trying to alleviate the pain. Slowly, Eddie turned, distracted by the smell wafting through the air-conditioned room. Using the opportunity her sister provided, Grace turned and kicked Eddie across the face. He recovered quickly, whipping his hand across Grace's face, backhanding her to the ground.

"Grace!" Serra shouted, attempting to cover the ground to get to her sister. As she jumped over Gideon, he reached out towards her leg, tripping her and bringing her to the floor. "Shit!" she cried as she hit the carpet. "Get off!"

Serra kicked Gideon across the jaw again and again, trying to get him to release his hold on her boot. Finally, with one more punishing blow, she knocked him out cold, and rolled towards her sister. Eddie was standing, facing Grace as she held the eight-inch blade in front of her. As the standoff continued, a look of confusion crossed both Eddie and Grace's face as Guns 'N Roses' song _Paradise City_ began playing through the silence.

"This is why you're supposed to have your phone on silent when we hunt, Serendipity," Grace rolled her eyes as Eddie stared with his eyebrows raised. "It's distracting." Eddie swiped at Grace with his overly large hands, almost making contact with her cheek.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Grace," Serra replied, sounding just as annoyed. "I've been too busy saving your ass to turn it down."

The music continued to play as Serra blocked another attack from Eddie. Both girls defended themselves admirably, but both were showing signs of exhaustion. Fueled by rage and grief, Eddie was relentless, landing hit after hit. Finally, Eddie scored a hit across Grace's face, sending her to the ground, holding her head.

Serra spun, kicking Eddie once again and shaking her head in rage. "We're never taking on another vamp case without being able to use guns," she commented as her phone began to ring again.

"No shit," Grace replied, finally getting to her feet and attempting to shake off the hit. "Who the hell is calling you?"

"I have no idea," she answered, swiping at Eddie with the knife once again. "But calling at a good time is not exactly their forte."

"Do you two ever shut _up?"_ Eddie growled, lowering his head and crouching into position.

"Not usually," Grace raised her eyebrows and wiped sweat from her face. "Although to be fair, she makes more noise than me."

Serra saw an opportunity and she took it. In one movement, she raised her foot to kick Eddie hard in the back, forcing him towards the end of the hall, near Gideon, who was still cowering on the floor. Grace sidestepped him clumsily and took a deep breath as Serra tossed her the blade. Pulling her last knife from the waistband of her jeans, Serra joined her sister as they drove their silver daggers into Eddie's chest.

His breath came in raspy gasps as he struggled to survive, twitching occasionally. Grace leaned on Serra's shoulder as she asked one final time, "Where are the girls you took?"

"Fuck both…of you," he replied, attempting to keep his eyes open.

Serra sighed and glanced at her sister. "I'll pass, thanks," she answered. "New plan?"

Swallowing hard and nodding towards the security camera in the back of the hall, she replied, "Get the tapes. I'll get it from Gideon."

Standing, Serra limped down the hall towards the security room and pushed her way through. Grace turned towards the remaining life and stared down at him. "I don't know why you would pledge loyalty to a bunch of bloodsuckers, but let me tell you this," she began quietly. "You are not worth keeping alive because you already know too much about us, but I can say that you will have died keeping two innocent lives safe if you tell me what you know."

Gideon narrowed his eyes at her and took a slow, pained breath. "You're telling me that you're going to kill me either way?"

Grace raised her eyebrows and shrugged, "You're the one that sided with a bunch of vampires."

Shaking his head slowly, he furrowed his eyebrows. "I didn't," he explained, holding out his arm. "I was taken as a kid, just like the girls. Dragged across the country doing things I never wanted to do." Grace simply stared at him, her clear blue eyes boring into his. "I finally broke away," he continued, his voice almost a whisper. "Then they do the same thing all over again and make me destroy the evidence. 'This is the last time, Gideon,' they said." He flicked his dark eyes towards Grace. "I finally have a real job. I got myself an apartment." He tilted his head as he pleaded, "I just wanted away from them."

Grace shifted her weight from her right foot to her left as she let her gaze drift to the ceiling. "When did hunting get this complicated?" she whispered, shaking her head. In the back of the hall, she could hear Slash's guitar begin again as her sister's phone rang once more. The solo stopped this time as Serra answered the call. "Look," Grace continued, facing Gideon. "This is how it's gonna be. You're gonna help clean some of this up, call the cops and say you were attacked by some crazed maniac that escaped through the window. We're going to torch the bodies in the river bed down there and leave you alive."

Gideon was nodding hopefully as she continued, pointing her index finger at him.

"I swear to you, if I find out that you have said anything to anyone, I will come back on some random Thursday and remove your head from your body," Grace whispered. "Am I making myself perfectly clear?"

Nodding again, Gideon's eyes flicked towards Serra as she reemerged with a stack of three security tapes. "This is all I could find," she said quietly, still holding her phone.

"Who was on the phone?"

Serra swallowed once, "Gemma."

Grace closed her eyes, pressing her teeth together. "Goddammit," she whispered.

Breaking his silence, Gideon took a raspy breath and said, "I might know where the girls are."

Serendipity and Grace Browning turned to face the young man on the floor. "Enough to call in an anonymous tip?" Grace asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Please just don't kill me."

Nodding once, Grace flicked her gaze towards her sister. "We have twenty minutes to get these bodies to the riverbed. The janitorial staff will be here at six."

"Great," Serra whispered, glancing around. "How the hell are we going to move four bodies out of here that fast?"

"Use the Caterpillar," Gideon replied. "The keys are in it."

Serra looked overjoyed, but Grace shook her head. "It'll leave a trail across the grass."

Gideon shook his head as he sat up. "There's a paved road that leads down there. It's where we dump the excess soil from digging graves."

Silently pleading with her sister, Serra pressed her lips together and raised her eyebrows. "Fine, you can drive the Caterpillar," Grace sighed. "But don't leave a trace." She turned towards Gideon as her sister bounded out of the room. "Call the cops after we get the bodies loaded. Crazed drifter maniac," she continued. "Say it."

"Crazed drifter maniac," Gideon repeated. "He was asleep under the tarps outside and followed me in."

"Not your first rodeo," Grace complimented.

"Not my first crazed drifter maniac," Gideon replied.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Shenandoah Police Department tip line, how can I help you?" a calm voice answered the phone on the second ring. Grace glanced over her shoulder out at the gas station parking lot as her sister waited in the car.

Taking a deep breath and holding the payphone closer to her face, she nodded. "Yeah, I know where the kidnapped girls are," Grace answered. "The ones in the newspaper?"

"Please hold while we transfer you to a police officer," the operated replied.

Picking mud and pebbles out of her fingernails, Grace waited as patiently as she could while the other end of the phone began to ring again. She looked towards Serendipity once again and the younger lifted her eyebrows impatiently. Serra used her pointer finger to draw quick circles in the air, trying to get Grace to speed up the process. Shaking her head, Grace turned away from her sister, ignoring her.

Finally, a police officer took her statement. She described the tunnels that Gideon had told her about, going on about how they continued passed the caves and into an underground mine that had long since been abandoned. The vampires had planned on keeping the missing girls there until their stories died down in the media, but Grace and Serra Browning had ensured that they would find their way home. Another family reunited. Another coven of monsters eliminated.

As Grace hung up the phone, she took a deep breath and checked her watch. There were five hours before the sun would set and she and Serra could go back to the site where they had dumped the vampires' bodies; five hours until they could be done with Shenandoah, Iowa, and get on with their lives.

Grace dumped herself into her car and closed the door, heaving a sigh of relief. "They're sending a squad car out," she answered Serra's silence. "They should be fine." Still silent, Serra sat very still in the passenger seat next to Grace. Turning to see the expression on her sister's face, Grace furrowed her eyebrows. "What's the matter?" she asked.

"Watkins Memorial just called me."

"Watkins Memorial," Grace repeated. "What, the hospital?"

Serra nodded slowly.

"What for?" Grace sounded confused.

Her hazel eyes flicked towards Grace's blue gaze and she took a deep, slow breath. "Apparently, I'm Gemma's emergency contact."

…

The drive that should have taken almost three hours to get from Shenandoah back to Lawrence only took two as Grace pushed her bright red Toyota to its limits. There hadn't been much to say as they drove and Serra hoped that she and Grace were overreacting to the hospital's phone call.

Jogging up to the front desk as Grace parked the car; Serra tapped the counter impatiently as a nurse approached her. "Hi," she greeted, putting her hands in the pockets of her scrubs. "What can I help you with?"

"The hospital called me about two hours ago about Gemma Torres? She is a patient here, I guess," Serra answered, glancing at her hands. Embarrassed, she lowered them to hide the dirt, and wiped her fingers on her jeans as best as she could.

The nurse tapped a few times on the keyboard in front of her, squinting as she stared at the screen. "Yes," she replied. "She's up on the third floor, up in ICU."

"Can I see her? Is she awake?"

The nurse nodded sadly. "Yes, but she's in and out. There's a note here that there will be a police officer coming shortly to try and take a statement from Ms. Torres."

Serra tilted her head. "A statement? For what?"

"We treat domestic abuse cases very carefully," the nurse said sadly. "You can go see your friend now."

…

"Yeah, Billy? This is Grace Browning," Grace sighed into the phone, grateful that she finally got an answer from her father's old hunting friend. "You busy?"

"Hey, Grace," Billy greeted. "Staying out of trouble?"

Giggling nervously, Grace raised her eyebrows and shook her head slowly. "Not really," she replied. "I hate to do this, but can you think of anyone in the area that can take care of a few vamp corpses that we left in Iowa?"

"You left corpses behind?" Billy's voice came back immediately, almost disappointed. "Grace, what were you thinking?"

Tapping her forehead with her phone, Grace pressed her lips together, squeezed her eyes shut, and wrinkled her nose, trying to come up with something good enough for Billy not to be mad.

Billy Griffin was a pawn shop owner in Kansas that had been in Grace and Serra's life for as long as they could remember. He had a shop that could provide anything that anyone could ever ask for, including monster hunters. Billy was the Browning family's supplier of all things supernatural and he had come in handy more than a few times throughout the girls' life. Since their father had been killed, Grace had tried to stay in contact as much as she could, but here lately, Billy just seemed to be who she called when she needed something.

"I know, Billy, I know," she pleaded. "Serra's friend is being beaten by her boyfriend and called us a few times during the hunt. I didn't want to get involved because I know Sere. She'll just kill him and I can't worry about a body count right now."

"So what happened?"

"We hunted a coven up in Shenandoah…those missing girls? The uncle? They've been all over the news," Grace explained. "Serra figured out that they were fangs and begged to come up and take out the coven…but then Gemma kept calling…"

Billy interrupted her, "And you left the job unfinished."

Closing her eyes and nodding as she leaned over the steering wheel to her car, she nodded. "Yeah," she whispered.

"Shenandoah, you said?" Billy's voice was calm again; forgiving. There was a brief pause as Grace nodded again. "Let me make a couple calls."

"Billy," Grace breathed. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, kiddo," he answered, grabbing a pen and a pad of paper. "Now, let's hear the details and where the bodies are."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Serra pushed the door to Gemma's hospital room and immediately froze where she was. Gemma was lying with her eyes closed; one of them sealed shut because there was so much swelling. Slowly, Serra let the door close and approached the bed, moving silently over the tile floor. Inspecting the machines that beeped and hissed as Gemma breathed, she approached the bed and felt the rare sting of tears in her eyes. Blinking them away, Serra took a deep breath and surveyed the damage.

Gemma's right eye was bloodied and bruised and there was a split in her eyebrow. Serra was pretty sure that her friend's nose was broken and from the look of it, maybe a broken jaw. Gingerly, she reached down to take Gemma's hand, avoiding the temporary cast and pulse monitor on her hand.

"Jesus, Gem," Serra sighed. "Why'd you stay?"

Gemma stirred, hearing Serra's voice. Turning her head slowly towards the younger Browning, Gemma took a shaky breath, "I thought I loved him."

"So you realize that you don't anymore?"

Taking a long time to mull over the words, Gemma shrugged half-heartedly. "I love the idea of him and who he used…" a tear dripped from Gemma's open eye as she struggled to continue. "I love who he used to be."

"And now?"

Turning away from Serra, Gemma faced the window and stared silently.

Serra pushed, "Gem. How do you feel now?"

Finally, Gemma took a ragged breath and blinked her left eye. "I hate him. I hate what he's become."

"And what are we going to do about it?"

"I wanna move out. I wanna just leave."

Nodding once, Serra locked her teeth together, taking a deep breath. The door behind her opened and two official-looking police officers walked into the ICU room and greeted Gemma and Serendipity with a nod. "Hello, Ms. Torres," the smaller officer said quietly. "We're here to ask you a few questions."

…

"Let's get out of here," Serra muttered to Grace as she walked straight past her sister without slowing down.

Grace furrowed her eyebrows, "I just got here!"

"And now we're leaving."

Turning to keep up with her little sister, Grace jogged along side of Serra. "What's going on? Why are we leaving?"

Serra pushed the button on the elevator and tapped her foot as she waited, but she remained silent.

"Serendipity," Grace pressed, turning to stand in front of her little sister.

"We're going to pay Stephen a little visit," Serra muttered, her hazel eyes flicking up to Grace's gaze.

The elevator arrived and opened its doors. Grace turned to acknowledge the people that were clustered together, waiting for the girls to get aboard, but she shook her head and said, "We'll get the next one, thanks." Slowly, the doors closed and Grace turned back towards her sister, glancing up at the security camera that was near them. She took Serra's shoulders and forcibly turned her away from the camera and walked her to the bench at the end of the hall.

"We are not," Grace hissed, "going to kill Gemma's boyfriend."

Serra threw herself down on the bench and folded her arms in front of her chest. "What else are we supposed to do, Grace? He's going to do it again."

"Not if she leaves him," Grace answered, turning to make sure the hall was empty. "And keep your fucking voice down."

"It's the same story all the time, Grace," Serra spat. "She will try to leave and he won't let her. He'll toss her around again and when the cops go over to arrest him, they'll just keep him overnight in the drunk tank. This is Kansas. They don't give a shit about this stuff here."

"That's a pretty broad statement."

"When's the last time you heard a happy ending from something like this?"

Grace closed her eyes and put her hands on her hips, trying to take deep, calming breaths. "We're not murders, Serra. We're monster hunters."

Serra took a deep breath and clenched her fists and whispered, "Not all monsters are supernatural."

Seconds passed in silence as Grace stared down at her sister. At the end of the corridor, Serra glanced up in time to see the pair of police officers exit Gemma's room and close the door behind them, thanking her as they left. They both tipped their hats at the Brownings as they pressed the button for the elevator and Grace smiled lightly in response, trying to be as invisible as possible.

As soon as they disappeared into the elevator, Grace took a deep breath. "How bad is it?"

"Broken nose, probably a busted jaw. Her right eye is swollen shut and she's got a couple of fractured ribs," Serra replied without looking at Grace. "She's ground beef."

Grace took a deep breath through her nose and closed her eyes. "I've got an idea," she whispered.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Grace dropped Serra off at home and insisted that she get back to calling the jobs advertised in the classified while she went to do 'errands'. After driving around for almost an hour, (and burning what was left in her gas tank,) Grace found herself back in front of an old, familiar Catholic church. From her driver's seat, she took a deep breath and stared at the giant stained glass window and closed her eyes as the church bells began to chime. It was almost time for evening mass.

No one knew that Grace visited the holy building, not even her sister. She had been coming sporadically since she was a teenager, searching for solace from the chaos in her mind. The only place quieter was the cemetery at the other end of town, but it seemed a bit dreary. Hearing people's thoughts through touch was more than exhausting; not only did she have to sort through everything she absorbed to find her own mind, but whenever she touched someone, Grace would also take on that person's emotions. It was getting harder and harder to get herself back.

The church was unassuming and quiet. No one wondered why she would spend hours in the pews, just sitting quietly and staring up at the stained glass. It was the most at ease she ever felt and no one judged her for it.

Knowing the church would soon be flooded with late-night church goers; Grace climbed out of her car and walked slowly into the narthex. She stopped and nodded once at the elderly woman kneeling in one of the back pews.

Walking silently through the church, Grace was headed to her favorite spot. She pushed her way through the doors near the crucifix and took a deep breath as she padded into the tiny gardens. There was a lone bench between small rose bushes that faced the ornate glass of the church, and taking a deep breath, Grace sat down and held her face in her hands. The marble statue of the Virgin Mary looked on as Grace struggled to keep control.

Hunting monsters was in her blood and as much as she would hate to ever admit it out loud, she was good at it. The Browning family had been hunting things that went bump in the night for generations; it was the whole reason Browning Firearms had been invented in the first place. It was a little-known fact that most early weapon developers were also moonlighting as monster hunters, mostly because they needed to create a product that would do the job necessary to keep civilians safe.

Hunting humans was a different beast entirely.

Grace Browning believed wholeheartedly that people were good, but instances like the situation that Gemma had found herself in made it hard for Grace to keep her optimistic beliefs. She knew Serendipity was right: Stephen would continue his path unless corrected, one way or another. If he wasn't hurting Gemma, he would find someone else, and the process would repeat itself, but Grace battled with herself. She was a monster hunter, not a human hunter. Not a police officer or a real member of the FBI, no matter how many fake badges she owned. Was civilian justice up to her?

From her pocket, her cell phone vibrated against her leg. Pulling it out slowly, she stared at the screen, and seeing that it was Billy, she took a deep breath and wiped her face. Grace flipped it open and answered, "Hi, Billy."

"Hey there, angel," he answered quietly. "Job's done."

Grace nodded and rubbed her eyes with her free hand. "Thanks, Billy, we owe you big," she whispered, trying not to give away her emotions.

"You don't owe me a thing," Billy replied. "Why are you crying?"

Squeezing her eyes shut, Grace shook her head slowly. She had no idea how he did it, but Billy always knew.

"I'm not crying," she answered, straightening her posture and staring at the Virgin Mary statue. "I'm just…dealing with some things."

Billy listened quietly, giving Grace his full attention. "There's a lot going on in that big brain of yours, huh?"

"This whole thing with Gemma," she replied quietly. "It's not our job to be judge, jury, and executioner."

He paused and took a slow breath, taking the time to comb his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair, and then smooth the wild strays of his beard. "Let me tell you something, angel. There's evil out in the world and most of the time, we do our part to clean it up a bit," Billy explained. "Most of the time, the evil is easy to see; usually it comes with fur, or fangs, or talons, but sometimes, that evil looks just like you or me."

"You're saying that evil is evil and still needs to be taken care of."

"I'm saying that you need to trust your gut," Billy stated. "But at the same time, just because he's an asshole, don't make him a dead man walking."

Grace shook her head. "This asshole almost killed her," Grace whispered, staring at the beautiful heavenly statue.

"Almost."

Nodding, Grace closed her eyes. "Almost. He stopped," she repeated. "It gets worse each time, though."

Billy sighed, "They usually do." Pausing, he took another breath. "Sounds like you've already made a decision."

"I've made a plan, but I'm not sure about the decision," she replied, toying with the ends of her long hair.

"You at your church?"

Automatically, Grace glanced around, wondering if Billy was waiting in the shadows. "How do you know that? Nobody knows where I go."

Chuckling softly from the other end of the phone call, Billy smiled, "Seems like every time you've got something big on your mind, there're church bells in the background. I started to pay attention."

"They're soothing when they're the only thing I can hear."

"I'll bet," Billy replied. "Walk me through your plan."

…

The church bells chimed one last time as parishioners filed out of the narthex and back towards their cars, away from Grace and her place in the garden. She remained in solitude and rolled her plan over and over in her mind, trying to find fault with it. Billy had approved of what she described to him, so now; it was just a matter of implementing it.

Serendipity had called twice, wondering where Grace had disappeared to, but she ignored the vibration against her leg from her phone. As the last car drove out of the parking lot, she breathed a sigh of relief: she was completely alone again at last. Getting up from her place on the bench, Grace wandered slowly around the garden and touched the plants as she walked by. Her long, blonde hair trailed behind her as a soft breeze blew around the vegetation. As she rounded the dirt path, she came face to face with the great marble statue of the Virgin Mary, and taking a deep breath, she stared up at her beautifully carved face.

"I hope we can pull this off," Grace whispered to the statue. "I really don't want to go to prison." The back of her neck tingled with familiarity; Serra was approaching, thinking that she was silent on the dirt path, but she gave off an aura that only Grace was familiar with. Grace closed her eyes, knowing that Billy had finally given away her secret, probably because Serra had called Billy in a panic, demanding to know where her sister was.

"Why would you go to prison?" Serra asked quietly.

Without turning around, Grace took a deep breath, still staring at the statue, "Because we're probably going to kill Stephen."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"How are you feeling?" Serra asked quietly as she walked into Gemma's hospital room. Grace followed silently behind and let the door close softly behind her.

Gemma turned slowly towards the Browning sisters and tried to shrug. "I don't know. Everything hurts, but they've got me on so many painkillers, I feel kinda drunk."

"Bonus," Serra smiled. "I could use a drink. You think they'd hit me up?"

Cracking a small smile, Gemma closed her eyes. "He was here," she whispered.

"Stephen?" Exchanging a glance with her sister, Serra turned back towards Gemma as she wheezed another breath. "They let him into the hospital?" she continued.

"I thought they would make an arrest," Grace commented. "I mean, the evidence is all over you."

Gemma nodded slowly, her reactions slightly delayed. "They did. He spent the night in county lock up, but I…"

"You didn't press charges," Grace supplied. "Why the hell not?"

Tears were streaming slowly down her face as she continued, "I don't know, Grace. It's like, I just couldn't do it. They kept asking me questions and I kept just denying it. I'm so afraid that he's gonna come back and…"

Gemma faded off and closed her eyes. Momentarily, Serra wondered if she had fallen asleep, but then, she reopened her eyes and shook her head. "I'm being overdramatic. He's a good guy."

"He's not a good guy," Serra countered. "He's an asshole. The worst kind."

"We put him up there with baby shakers and puppy killers," Grace added, crossing her arms across her chest. "There's no way you should be feeling guilty about telling the truth about him."

"I just want to move out and move on," Gemma said, ignoring Grace. "Then maybe I can forget him and forget this ever happened to me."

Grace and Serra exchanged glances again and Grace nodded her permission. Gemma was following the plan, even though she had no idea what the plan was. "Good," Serra said, moving closer towards the hospital bed. "I'm gonna come over when you're discharged and we'll pack you up and move you out. You can come and stay with us for a few weeks while you get your feet under you."

Gemma nodded slowly. "Yeah," she agreed. "Yeah, that sounds good. Thank you, guys. You're the best."

Grace smiled lightly and nodded. "We're your friends," she answered.

Smiling reassuringly, Serra agreed. "We've got your back."

…

"Your phone is ringing," Grace muttered as she rolled over, trying to get comfortable again. It was late and she had a substitute job in the morning. Serra grumbled into her pillow as Grace prodded her with her elbow. "Why are you in my bed again?" Grace continued. "Oh my God, Serra, answer the phone."

Serra still refused to budge. Grace rolled over again and glanced at the clock. It was after midnight. Pulling herself up and over her sister, she stretched towards the nightstand on the far side of the bed and flipped open Serra's cell phone. "I'm here, I'm here," Grace muttered; her voice still thick with sleep. "What?"

"Ms. Browning?" a voice answered.

"Yeah, what?"

"This is the Lawrence police department and we're over here at Watkins Memorial. We're going to need you to come down and answer some questions."

Full awareness hit Grace then and feeling completely sober, she took a deep, steadying breath. "Uh, yeah, sure," she answered, sitting up and pulling herself off of Serra. "Can I ask why?"

The police officer stayed in full business mode. "You are Gemma Torres' emergency contact, yes?"

"Yes," Grace answered, flicking her gaze towards Serra.

"Well, miss," he continued, "there has been an emergency and we need you down here."

…

By the time Serra and Grace got up and dressed and drove to Watkins Memorial, there were police officers scattered all over the hospital. Both of them needed to show ID before they were allowed up, into Gemma's hospital room, and when they arrived at the third floor, they were both stopped by an officer holding a clipboard.

"Name?" he asked, staring at Grace.

"Uh, Grace Browning. This is my sister, Serra," Grace gestured towards a grumpy Serendipity. "A cop called us from home about some emergency with Gemma Torres?"

The policeman's gaze fell immediately and more and more, Grace was getting a sinking feeling about the entire situation. She chanced a look towards Serra and knew the next ten minutes wouldn't be easy.

"This way, please."

The cop led them back towards Gemma's hospital room and as they walked slowly, he turned and murmured, "I'm very sorry."

"Sorry?" Serra asked, glancing up. "Sorry for what?"

They approached the room and Grace took a deep breath, tears flooding her eyes as she realized what had happened. The police officer standing guard at the door lowered his eyes as Serra pushed her way into the room.

There, lying on the bed was a body covered by a white sheet. The machines that had been attached were silent; their blinking lights and beeping warnings finally calm. Grace could just see Gemma's purple toenail polish, peeking out from under the white sheet; her toes themselves almost blue.

"Oh my God," Grace whispered, covering her mouth. "What happened?"

Serra moved closer to the edge of the bed, not believing her own eyes. She furrowed her eyebrows and began shaking her head slowly, arguing with the truth that was right in front of her. Without hesitating, she reached and pulled the top of the sheet back, exposing Gemma's face, frozen in time. Her eyes were closed and the oxygen tube was still in her nose.

Whipping around to face the police officers and nurse that filed into her room, Serra squared her jaw, "What the _fuck_ happened?" She turned back towards Gemma and touched her face gently, brushing a strand of light blonde hair out of her friend's face. "What happened to her?"

"The shifts were rotating," a nurse whispered. "We didn't see him come in. He unplugged her machines…" Tears filled the nurse's eyes and she wiped her nose. "When we came in for third shift checks, she was already gone."

"Unplugged her machines?" Serra repeated. "You're telling me that alarms don't go off when a machine loses power?"

The nurse shook her head. "It's why we have sixteen checks per shift…we're in here every half hour," she continued, fighting sobs. "I don't know how this happened."

Grace glanced at the police officer at the door. "And there was no one else here, was there?"

"They had an amicable reunion," he commented. "We had no reason to stay."

Narrowing her eyes, Grace turned towards the cop, fury rattling through her ragged voice, "Her broken ribs and nose weren't a big enough reason, huh?"

Serra glanced at Grace and she shook her head, knowing that the first half of their original plan had been scrapped. Stephen had completely changed the game.

Without another word, Serendipity turned and stormed out of the hospital room. Grace took a calming breath and put her hands on her hips. "She doesn't have any family," she said quietly. "And we don't have the money to bury her."

"The judge has issued a warrant for the arrest of Stephen Neely," the police officer replied. "Her body will go to the county coroner anyway for an autopsy. Then burial plans can be made with the city."

"So she's just another part of the system, now?"

"You'll most likely receive a subpoena for court. I'm very sorry," the policeman commented.

"So am I," Grace replied.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

It had been three weeks since the county claimed Gemma's body. They had done an autopsy before they buried her in the cemetery across town, marking her grave site with only her name, birth date, and death date. Grace, Serra, and three friends from Gemma's job at the local grocery store were the only people in attendance at her burial, and as the lift lowered her simple pine casket into the ground, tears of rage spilled from Serendipity's eyes.

Grace did her best to go through the motions at work; she was getting regular calls for sub jobs at the elementary school, and for the first time, she felt like she was making enough money to support Serra. Her sister still hadn't found a job, but she was helping more around the house, tidying up when necessary, doing laundry, and cooking dinner when they had food in the pantry.

"So when are we going to do something?" Serra asked quietly at the dinner table one night.

Turning from her place at the sink after pouring herself a glass of water, Grace took a deep breath, marveling that it had taken her sister so long to ask that particular question. Serra had no idea that Grace had been tracking Gemma's ex-boyfriend across the map; abusing her connections with hunters across the county. If they could track down something that supposedly did not exist, finding a human wouldn't be a problem.

Without answering, Grace walked towards her desk and pulled a file folder out of the bottom drawer. She sauntered back up to the dinner table and tossed it in front of Serendipity.

"What is this?" she asked, glancing up at Grace.

Nodding towards the folder, Grace answered, "Billy's got some connections up near Whitefish, Montana. Says that the asshole has made himself at home in the college town not far from there."

"You've been tracking him?"

Grace rolled her eyes. "Of course I've been tracking him. You really think I would have let this go?" she asked, sitting at the table next to her sister. "I know I was hesitant before, but Gemma is dead. He's as much of a monster now as anything we've hunted before."

Leaning towards the manila folder, Serra opened it carefully and pored over the research that Grace had dug up. There were surveillance camera stills of Stephen walking down the street near a coffee shop, another one of him standing in front of an ATM and one more of him pumping gas. "How did you get these?" Serra whispered. "This is good, even for you."

"Remember that guy that used to help Daddy? Bobby Singer?"

Serra nodded.

Grace took a drink of her water, fanning herself with the now-empty folder and took a deep breath, saying, "Billy knows him and between the two of them, they each have about a million hunter friends. These are from that guy Rufus that bailed us out in Liberty, Oklahoma." The younger stayed silent as Grace continued; returning her gaze towards the glossy black and white photos on the table. Tapping the photo of Stephen at the gas station, Grace said, "This is in Missoula. Rufus says he's seen him with a couple different girls, all around Gemma's age."

Serra's hazel gaze flicked up towards Grace. "He's looking for another one," she commented.

"Looks like," Grace agreed.

Serra nodded slowly, her eyes finding the photos once more. "Let's go make sure he finds someone," she added. "We don't want him to be lonely."

"It would be a shame," Grace whispered.

…

Grace found herself falling into the same routine going after Stephen as she did when she and Serra would go hunting for a monster. She packed her duffle, tossing extra ammo for her pearl handled Colt forty-five and three knives of varying lengths into a pile beside her bed. Putting her hands on her hips, she ran through the checklist in her mind. Grace bit her bottom lip, knowing that the best way to hunt a girlfriend beater was to become the next girlfriend.

Stabilizing her final plan in her head, Grace walked back towards her dresser and pulled out her trusty Daisy Duke denim cutoffs and the most padded bra she owned. She added a lacy black tank top to the mix, along with a pair of Serra's nice high-heeled cowboy boots.

Serendipity walked in to her bedroom and tossed Grace's bathroom kit onto the bed next to the pile. "You think we can pull this off?"

Grace nodded without looking up, and said, "We can if you stay out of the way. He knows you, but he's never seen me."

"Okay," Serra whispered, agreeing. "Why does this one feel different?"

"Because we're hunting a human."

…

"You got anyone else in the area?" Billy asked, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder. "My girls are comin' up your way. They're after that asshole that killed their friend."

"I don't have any cops," the voice on the other end of the line answered, taking a deep breath and sighing heavily. "Wish I did. This is verging on crazy, Bill."

Billy nodded. "I know it," he answered. "But, Bobby, you gotta understand. This guy's as bad as any monster they've ever hunted. Grace told me the other day that he had another girlfriend that 'moved away'," Billy continued, using his fingers as air quotes. "Seems like this kid's got a trail of bodies."

"Seems like," Bobby answered. "Your girls can handle him?"

"I'm not worried." The bell above the door to Billy's shop jingled as a customer entered. Billy glanced up and nodded politely, acknowledging him. "I've got a customer, Bobby," he sighed lightly. "Thanks again for sending your boys up to clean up the mess in Shenandoah."

Bobby laughed, "Milk run, Bill. Dean was bored, needed something to do. Kid's driving me friggin' nuts. I'll have him on speed dial if your girls need a hand."

"Thanks, Bobby. Talk soon." Billy hung up the phone and smiled at the customer. "Howdy! Something I can help you with?"


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"Go over it again," Grace repeated to Serra's heavy sigh as they drove through the night.

Shifting in her seat, Serra stared out the window and rolled her eyes, but complying anyway. "We know he's got a job at the drugstore in town. You go in and hook him while I set the room."

"What room?" Grace asked, pushing Serra through their plan once more.

Turning to face her sister, Serra tilted her head. "My car is already parked on the backside of the Keystone Motel, but away from room two-sixteen," she replied. "We've got the room for a week and a half. No maids, all cash."

Grace got off the highway at the next exit and pulled into the parking lot of a gas station. "Weapon placement?"

Serra closed her eyes and recited, "Two-inch switchblade in the bathroom under the top towel and another one tucked between the mattress and box spring on the right side near the headboard." Opening her eyes and watching Grace put the car in first gear, set the parking brake, and kill the engine, she took a deep breath. "Your turn," she said, gesturing towards her sister.

Grace took over the narration, "I get him to a bar while you set the room. I get him drinking, buying him whatever he'll shoot. Flirt shamelessly and get him thinking he's got an easy catch. We stumble back to the Keystone, room two-sixteen no earlier than nine."

She broke eye contact with Serra and stared at her hands, hesitating only slightly as she continued. "I lure him into getting physical and then tell him no. I do whatever I need to do to piss him off."

"And?"

Grace licked her lips and closed her eyes. "I avoid using the blades if I can. I defend myself with what is around me, but let him get a few good hits in."

Serra nodded slowly. "It has to look like self-defense, Grace," she whispered. "That's the only way we're going to be able to pull this off."

"And you have to stay out of that room," Grace added. "You set the stage so that I have the knives if I need them, but you stay clear and you wipe the room before you leave."

The girls fell silent, each of them immersed in their own thoughts for more than a few minutes. Finally, Serra took a deep breath, "What if he knocks you out?"

"He won't."

"He might."

Licking her lips again, Grace shook her head slowly. "You'll just have to be watching. Stay close and I'll leave the drapes open. You'll be able to see through the sheer curtains, right?"

Serra nodded once, "I think so, especially with the back lamps on. We should test it first."

Grace agreed, "Yeah. We'll do that before we go to the bar." She considered her sister for a moment and then took a slow breath. "Towards the end," she continued, "you call nine-one-one. Report a disturbance from 'your' motel room, but stay anonymous. Call from the motel phone and ditch it." Grace hesitated and shook her head slowly, "The timing has to be right on or it's over."

Nodding somberly, Serra took a deep breath to continue. "Rendezvous here," Serra replied. "You have all of your fake ID stuff? Debit card and driver's license in the same name?"

Grace nodded. "This is my last one that still looks legit," she replied. "I guess we can't pull any more jobs like this until we can get some new ones, right?"

"It's getting harder these days."

Swallowing hard, Grace nodded. "Getting a day job is looking better and better, right, Little?"

"I'd still rather hunt."

…

"I can see him," Grace whispered into her phone as she walked down the paper goods aisle for the third time. "He's behind the photo counter."

"Well, get to flirting and hook him. It's already getting late," Serra replied from the other end of the line. "I've had the room set for two hours."

Grace rolled her eyes and tossed her long, wavy blonde hair from one side of her head to the other. "Jesus Christ, I'm going and my feet are killing me. I don't know how you wear these boots."

"You shut your face about my boots. You're lucky I'm letting you wear them. They hate you."

Shaking her head, Grace glanced up in the bubble mirror at the end of the aisle. She rolled her eyes and sighed. "I'm hanging up the phone now," she answered, ignoring her sister. "I'll let you know which bar as soon as I find out."

"Be nice to my boots."

Tucking her phone into her tiny purse, Grace looked up into the mirror again, using it to straighten her tank top and pull her breasts up higher in her push-up bra. Reapplying her lipstick and sticking a piece of gum in her mouth, she took a deep breath and tilted her head from side to side to pop her neck. Splaying her fingers, she turned on a heel and raised her head, while pushing her hips forward and changing her entire persona. She sauntered up the aisle, and headed straight for Stephen's place at the photo counter.

As Serra's boot heels echoed on the tile floor, Stephen stopped what he was doing to watch Grace as she approached him. She threw him a wicked grin and made a bee-line towards him. "Hey there, handsome," she greeted, still smiling and smacking her gum. "I got a question that I think I need a man for."

Stephen stared unabashedly and smiled, enjoying the show that Grace was putting on. His dark brown hair was shorter than Grace remembered from his picture on Gemma's social media page, but his eyes were still just as sinister as she remembered. He stood up to his full height as Grace approached, leaning towards the counter, just trying to get closer to her.

"And what kind of question might that be?" he asked, his voice rough.

Grace tilted her head as she got closer, seemingly pondering her question. Leaning over, onto the countertop, Grace folded her arms under her chest and pushed her breasts towards Stephen, catching his attention easily. She made a show of looking at his name tag. "Well, see, Stephen," she started, allowing a fake Southern drawl to take her vowels, "this here light came on in my dash in my car? Looks like a little genie lamp."

Stephen nodded, smiling lightly. "Sounds like the oil light," he replied, crossing his arms.

"Oh, see that makes sense," Grace commented. "So that means I need some oil?"

He nodded again, lifting his eyebrows. "That's usually what that means," he answered. "We've got oil on aisle seven."

Grace rolled her eyes dramatically. "I don't have a clue what to look for, hon," she whined. "See, this is why I need a man!"

Stephen chuckled. "Sure sounds like it," he said, moving towards the end of the counter. "Now, if I help you," he continued as he led her down the aisle, "you're gonna have to promise me something."

"Oh yeah?" Grace answered, flipping her hair again and clicking her gum.

"Yeah," Stephen bantered. As he turned his back to her to continue leading her down the corridor, Grace allowed herself an eye roll. "I'm gonna need you to promise to leave your number with me, you know," he paused and grinned, "in case you break down later and need me to come and pick you up."

"Oh, Stephen, you're too much," Grace giggled flirtatiously. "You get my car workin' again and you've got yourself a date."

…

"We're at the Watering Hole off the highway back near the motel," Grace whispered into her phone as she reapplied lipstick in the bathroom mirror.

Serra took a pen from the cup holder of her Acura. It had been a pain to get enough cash together to fuel both Grace and her cars for the hunt, but it was necessary. Writing 'H20 hole' on the exposed skin of her leg, she picked at the rip in her jeans. "Are you okay so far?" she answered quietly.

"Yeah," Grace replied. "He's all flirtation and touching right now. Bought me a couple of drinks; you know, the honeymoon phase."

Serra stared out the window of her car and closed her eyes. "I'm so tightly wound right now, I feel like I'm gonna hurl."

"Keep it together. I gotta go."

Closing the flip phone, Serra put the keys in the ignition and started the motor of her car. She gripped the steering wheel and popped her neck, silently pleading that this would go the way they had planned.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Grace stared at Stephen over her fifth drink of the night and smiled as mysteriously as she knew how. As she had gotten older, alcohol had affected her less and less and it was almost impossible for her to stay drunk. She had no idea why her body would burn the booze off so quickly, but knew it was coming in handy right about now.

Stephen was hardly able to stay perched on his barstool. He was lucid, but drunk, and continually leaning over towards Grace to touch her leg or move his face close enough to hers to make contact with her neck. The constant physical contact was exhausting for Grace, considering she was pushed into his subconscious over and over again, but she held it together enough that she was pulling off the con with flying colors. Grace had also had confirmation from his three-second memory flashes that she and her sister were about to do the right thing. Stephen's memories had shown her at least three different females that he had beaten to death in the last decade or so. She hadn't realized how much older he was than her, (or Gemma for that matter) because he hid his age very well.

More, now than ever, Grace knew she and Serra were doing the right thing. Stephen was a monster.

Once again, Stephen leaned closer towards Grace's face, getting touchy. He ran his hand over her thigh, moving towards her face and Grace did what she could to stay still and play the part. She involuntarily gave him the flirtatious permission that she did not want to give, but kept the fantasy alive.

"You are just as pretty as a picture, Daisy," Stephen whispered in her ear, using tried-and-true fake name. "I give you a little learnin' about cars and you'll be the perfect woman."

Grace winked at him, "Too bad I ain't a very good student."

Stephen downed another shot and weaved in his seat. Out of the corner of her eye, Grace caught movement near the bar and glared as she realized that it was her sister, settling in to the shadows of a booth.

"Relax," Serra mouthed from her place.

Grace fell back into character and ran a hand through Stephen's dark hair. "What kinda car do you drive?" she asked. "I do love the roar of old muscle."

Stephen was shaking his head, "No, no, no, little girl: German. I drive an older BMW E30 and it's the hottest little thing you've ever seen. Fast."

It took everything Grace was not to make a face. "That sounds," Grace lied, "hot."

"It is." Stephen's breath was hot against her face and she tensed slightly when he reached for her ear lobe with his teeth. "Wanna get out of here?"

"You sure know how to show a girl a good time," Grace replied, glancing at Serra. With one look, Serra knew they were on the move again and grabbing her leather bag, she got up from her place in the dark booth and headed outside towards her Acura.

Grace leaned away from Stephen and turned her back to get her tiny purse off the back of the barstool. She pulled her hair out from under the strap, letting it fall loosely down her back and looked up in time to see Stephen drop two round, blue pills into the remainder of her drink, still sitting on the bar. She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath, knowing that Stephen would now insist that she finish her drink, hoping to knock her out.

 _A man with a plan,_ she thought to herself. _What an ass._

Turning back towards Stephen, she smiled wickedly. "I'm staying at a motel right near here," she said. "We could walk."

"You gotta finish your drink first," he pleaded. "I ain't wasting no booze."

Glancing at the two glasses on the bar, Grace smiled serenely. "Oh, no doubt," she sighed, reaching for her glass. She shifted her body slightly, distracting him with her movements as Grace pressed her chest to his. The friction of their bodies was enough of a diversion for Grace to push forward and switch the glasses at the last minute. Taking his drink and leaving hers in its place, she was silently thankful once again that she wore lipstick that didn't transfer to glass.

Grace tossed back the rest of the whiskey at the bottom of the tumbler and grinned. "Well," she giggled flirtatiously, "keep up!"

Stephen nodded eagerly and reached for Grace's drink and without thinking about it, he drained it in one gulp. "Let's get out of here," he growled, reaching for her hand.

…

Stumbling through the parking lot, the roofies that Stephen had dumped into Grace's drink were already taking effect. Grace gripped his hand, keeping the flow of memories that tried to force their way into her brain to a minimum and trying to keep him from tripping on his own feet; pleased with the turn of events. Slowly, Grace was changing the plan in her head. At this rate, they wouldn't have to make it look like an accident; he made it easy to just make him disappear.

Being a psychic, Grace had seen her share of secrets from other people. It made it very easy not to trust others, simply based on the amount of deceit she saw on a regular basis. The only one who ever told the truth on a constant basis was her sister, and that was only because she wasn't afraid to speak her mind. People, as a general rule, were a very secretive bunch; hiding trivial things from their friends and family.

Stephen was no different.

Throughout the evening, Grace had seen the extent of the physical abuse that he had inflicted on other people, killing at least three women in his past. If given enough time, Grace was sure that she would find more in his long term, hidden memories, but she wasn't stupid enough to stick around and find out. Stephen was as close to a monster as he could be without actually having fangs or claws. Grace's conscious was clear.

As they approached the motel room, Grace pushed Stephen up against the wall, holding him in place as best she could. She opened the door and pushed it open, allowing Stephen to lurch through the entrance. He tripped again, catching himself on the bed, and sank into the mattress. Grace let the door close behind her and tilted her head as she put her hands on her hips.

"Well," Stephen slurred, "let's get it on, bitch."

"Bitch?" Grace's façade and Southern accent were gone in an instant as soon as they were hidden from the public. "Your true colors are already showing."

"The fuck?" Stephen muttered, attempting to sit up. "What's happened about me?"

Grace narrowed her eyes as she approached the bed. "I switched our drinks," she answered quietly. "See how it feels? What kind of an asshole puts roofies in a girl's whiskey? You just ruined it."

Stephen squinted, trying to focus on Grace as she stood before him. She pulled her phone out of the tiny purse she carried and waited for her sister to pick up the other end.

"You okay?" Serra asked, not even waiting for the second ring to pick up.

Nodding, Grace answered, "Yeah. He tried to roofie me."

"What?" she yelled, gripping the steering wheel of her car as she sat in the driver's seat.

"Calm down," Grace answered as Stephen tried to sit up. "I switched the drinks and right now he's lying on the bed, trying not to pass out." Grace pursed her lips. "You remember that Dixie Chicks song?"

"You're going to have to be more specific," her sister replied, calm finding her voice once more.

"You finally get a chance to say goodbye to 'Earl'," Grace answered, smiling slightly. "Come on in. Change of plans."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

"What's the plan now?" Serra asked as Grace let her into the motel room. She glanced around as Grace closed the door and lifted her eyebrows at the sight of Stephen snoring on the bed.

Grace shrugged. "I never really liked the idea of staging it as an assault and self-defense. There were always too many variables to control," she explained. "At least this way, we don't have to go to the cops and there doesn't have to be a trail involving us in any way."

Furrowing her eyebrows, Serra crossed her arms and threw her sister a skeptical look. "So, what?" she asked, "We're just gonna slit his throat?"

Moving towards the bed, Grace shook her head. "No, you idiot. You know how hard blood is to contain. We're gonna move him first. Get him out in the wilderness and make him disappear." Pulling her hair into a pony tail, Grace turned back towards the bed. "We'll treat him like the monster he is."

"Did you see?"

Grace didn't have to ask to understand that Serra wanted to know about Stephen's past. She nodded somberly. "At least three, not including Gem."

Serra squared her jaw. "Asshole," she whispered.

"Alright," Grace took a deep breath and checked her watch. "It's almost midnight. Let's wait until about two or three and drag him out to his car. I'll go get it from the bar in a bit. You follow me out in the Acura, we'll take care of business out in the woods, and then come back and I'll ask around, looking for him, like he left me in the middle of the night."

"What are we going to do with the body?"

"There was a cemetery about six miles from here. I'll bet you they have a couple of fresh graves, just begging to be filled."

"Torch it first?"

"Torch it first."

Grace grabbed the duffle bag at the end of the bed and took a deep breath. "Jesus, we sound like serial killers," she commented, glancing back over her shoulder as she stripped out of her Daisy Duke shorts and tiny tank top. "I know he's an ass, but I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that he's human."

Serra shrugged. "He's a human that's killed Gem and three other women," she replied. "And he tried to drug you. Who knows, maybe he's trying to make this into a thing?"

"What, drugging and killing women?"

Serra lifted her eyebrows.

"Yeah, well," Grace replied, nodding. "It'll be over soon."

…

"It's two-oh-six," Serra whispered. "Can we get this show on the road?"

Grace rubbed her face and glanced at her watch. "Yeah, I guess," she replied. "Check the windows."

Serra padded to the window and pulled back the curtain the tiniest bit. "It's clear," she said quietly. "The only light is from the main street about fifty yards away. All of the other hall lights are out or too dim to be an issue."

Reaching for Stephen, Grace hefted him up onto her shoulder. "Fucker's heavy," she mentioned as she tossed Serra the keys to the BMW that was parked outside the door of their motel room. "Go open the passenger door."

Serra moved silently as Grace did her best to drag Stephen to the front of his car. Leaning him on the hood for a moment to catch her breath, she and Serra heaved once more and unceremoniously dumped him into the front seat of his car. It reeked of whiskey, cigarettes, and old fast food. Grace leaned away from the car with a sour look on her face as she stared at Stephen, who was still out cold.

"Has he moved?" she asked.

"What?"

Grace tilted her head and felt Stephen's exposed arm. It was cooler than her hand. She glanced back at Serra, who was standing and blocking the street's view of Stephen's legs, still hanging out of the car.

"Has he moved? Since you got here?" Grace lifted her hand to touch Stephen's neck, searching for a pulse. "Oh my God, Serra. Look. Feel him."

"I don't want to," Serra said, making a face. "What's happening?"

"I think he's dead," Grace whispered. "He's cold."

Serra couldn't help the laugh that escaped her lips. "Oh, fuck," she whispered, suppressing a smile. "How—how is that possible?"

Grace took a step back and stared at the man in the passenger seat of the BMW. "Can you OD on roofies? Is that a thing?"

"Maybe he already had something else in his system." Grace asked, "New plan?"

"Uh," Serra narrowed her eyes at her sister. "We're running low on new ideas."

"What if we just leave him here?" Grace asked, thinking aloud. "I mean, we didn't kill him. He just…he just died."

Serra was still staring at him, shaking her head. "He took all the fun out of it," she whispered. "I was really looking forward to fighting this bastard." She glanced up at her sister, who was running a hand over her scalp, tightening her ponytail and curling it into a tight bun on the top of her head. "I _really_ wanted to kill him."

Grace ignored her little sister and blinked in disbelief. "We'll wipe him down, get rid of your fingerprints, and call the cops."

"What?" Serra exclaimed, dumbfounded. "You _just_ said that you would rather just make him disappear! What happened to that plan? I _liked_ that plan."

As she closed her eyes and shook her head, Grace sighed heavily. "Alright, alright," she agreed. "That's probably the less-messy way to do this." She stepped backward to lift his legs. "Let's get gone."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Grace drove as calmly as she could over the next forty-five minutes, being next to a dead man. Her bright blue eyes darted to his lifeless body countless times as they made their way down the darkened highway. "What the fuck," she whispered. "There had to have been something else in your system."

She turned and faced the road again, slowing down for her exit as she headed for the woods. Serra's headlights flashed in her mirror as she followed closely behind as they wound their way through the wilderness. As the tiny caravan came to a stop, Grace put the car in gear, taking the time to wipe her fingerprints off the steering wheel, gear shift, and dashboard with an alcohol wipe. When she got out of the car, she dug in the duffle bag that Serra dumped next to the BMW for a tiny flashlight and searched for any hair that she might have left behind. Satisfied with her clean-up, Grace turned back towards her sister and nodded.

"Okay," she sighed, tossing Serra a shovel. "Let's carry him about fifty yards in and start digging."

"No cemetery?"

Grace shook her head, "No, I changed my mind while we were driving over. This is better," she whispered. "Native American holy ground. It's protected by the government."

Serra shook her head in disbelief. "You have changed plans more times on this job…" she commented, bracing herself to heft Stephen's body. "It's like I don't know you at all."

"I'm jumpy because it's a human," Grace countered, bending down towards the body's shoulders. "I can't make solid decisions because we're not exactly going by a hunter's playbook."

As Grace made the move to walk away from Stephen's body, she immediately stumbled and turned back towards the ground, trying to see what she tripped on in the darkness.

"Holy shit," she whispered, jumping away from Stephen. "He's moving!"

Serra was on her in no time. "What?" she yelled, still holding her shovel.

"I tripped on him because his arm moved!"

"I thought you said he was dead!"

Both of the Browning sisters leaned towards Stephen's seemingly lifeless form and watched him carefully. Slowly, one at a time, his fingers began to twitch and he struggled to open his eyes. Without turning towards her sister, Grace reached out and began hitting Serendipity on the shoulder, driving home the point that their victim was in fact, still alive.

"Shit, shit, shit," Grace whispered, running towards the duffle bag, searching for one of her guns. "Where the hell is The Judge?"

Serra was backing away from Stephen as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. She answered without looking back at Grace, "You told me no guns!"

"That was before he became a zombie!"

Serendipity whipped around to stare at Grace. "Zombie? Zombies are real?" her voice cracked at the intensity of her exclamation. "Seriously? As if we _don't_ have enough monsters to deal with!"

"I have no idea!" Grace yelled back, pulling out another shovel. "But I swear! He _did not_ have a pulse!"

"What the fuck is going on?" Stephen asked, rubbing his face groggily. He swayed back and forth, trying to steady himself on the ground. "Who the fuck are you? What is going on?"

Serra stared at him, her mouth hanging open, as Grace ran back to their side of the BMW. "What the hell, man," she began. "You tried to drug her!"

"What?" he asked, staring at Serra. "Who are you?"

Serra and Grace exchanged glances and Grace almost laughed at the look on her sister's face. "What is _happening_?" Serra shouted. "This is the weirdest job we've ever done!"

The next thing they knew, Stephen was standing and trying to walk towards the both of them. His vision must have still been blurry, because he reached out towards the girls as if he couldn't see them. Stephen's speech was slurred as well. He spoke in broken sentences as he stumbled towards Grace.

"You," he murmured. "You're the bitch from the bar."

Grace pressed her lips together. "Ah," she sighed. "There are his true colors."

"What?" he asked, gesturing towards the darkness. "You drag me out here and what," he tripped on a tree branch and hesitated as he found his footing. "You think you're gonna fucking take me out?"

"Honestly," Serra replied, "we thought you took yourself out."

"There was about thirty seconds that I thought you were a zombie," Grace added, still clutching her shovel.

Tilting her head towards her sister, Serendipity shrugged. "Maybe he was in like, a coma or something." She turned her attention back towards Stephen. "Are you an intravenous drug user?"

"You are the most fucked up bitches I will ever have the pleasure killing," Stephen said, his words coming easier now that he was fully awake. "Drag me out here…" he muttered to himself. He glanced down at Serra and gestured towards her with a finger. "You're that bitch that Gem hung out with."

"Do you know any other descriptors?" Serra asked, tilting her head. "Because 'bitch' is getting old."

"It's accurate," Grace added quietly.

Serra rolled her eyes. "Yeah," she agreed, "I'm the bitch that Gem hung out with. I saw what you did to her." She gestured towards Grace with her shovel, "She's seen what you've done to the others."

"Yeah?" Stephen asked, stretching out his arms. "You're about to see what I'm gonna do to you."

"Well, come on then," Grace muttered. "It's been a weird night."

Stephen lunged at the girls, going for Grace's throat with both of his hands. His reaction time was still slowed, and Grace dodged him easily, sidestepping him and hitting him upside the head with the shovel. Stephen fell to his knees, but was up again in a few seconds, heading towards Serra this time. She narrowed her eyes and shook her head, ready for his attack. Using the handle to the shovel, she gouged it into his stomach, forcing him to double over. He strained for breath and glanced up at them, wheezing.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" he gasped.

"We're the fucking Brownings," Grace answered. "You finally found a bitch that can fight back."

Serra raised her eyebrows. "Two, actually," she added.

Stephen caught his breath and swung his fist at Grace's face. She bent away from him with minimal effort as Serra swung the shovel around to hit him in the face, knocking him down.

Smiling at her hit, Serra glanced at Grace, "This is going to be easier than I originally thought," she said.

"Don't get cocky," Grace chastised.

Stephen raised his head, almost growling with effort and pushed his way to his feet once again. He stumbled, tripping over his own feet, but reached down towards his boot and pulled out a tiny thirty-eight caliber pistol out of one of his boots. Serra was turning back towards Stephen with a wry grin on her face, but it slipped from her lips as he grabbed her long auburn locks and pulled her close. Grace took a step towards them, pressing her lips together.

"See?" Grace sighed, lifting her eyebrows. "Cocky."

"Shut up," Stephen hissed, struggling to stay on his feet while holding Serra across the chest.

Looking annoyed, Serendipity glanced at her sister and half-shrugged. "Yeah, sorry," she replied. "My bad."

Stephen tightened his grip on the younger sister as Grace looked on. "Fucking Christ," he growled. "You have not shut up since we got out here. Do you not fucking realize that I have a fucking gun?"

Serra sighed dramatically. "A minor detail," she answered, still staring at Grace. She could almost hear her sister count down from three in her mind, timing the attack perfectly with her.

In one motion, Serra braced her footing and threw herself forward as hard as she could, breaking Stephen's grip and tossing him to the ground. Grace was on him in seconds flat, holding the sharp end of the shovel at his neck, pressing her teeth together, attempting to regain control of her rage. Serra slid across the ground and swept the tiny thirty-eight from the dirt, checking to make sure it was loaded before aiming it at Stephen's head.

"This is a nice little concealed weapon," Serra muttered. "It would have been a nice addition to my collection."

"What, are you gonna shoot me with my own gun?"

Serra nodded slowly. "Yes," she answered. "Saves me trying to get a through and through out of a tree when I shot you with mine."

Stephen stared up at the sisters and shook his head. "You're gonna murder me in cold blood?"

"Sorry to steal your 'thing'," Grace answered, using her fingers as air quotes. "I know how much you love a good murder." She took a deep breath through her nose and nodded once at her sister. "The trail of blood ends with you."

"You can't-" Stephen's voice was cut off by a gunshot that echoed through the trees.

Still gripping the tiny thirty-eight out in front of her body, Serra released the breath she had been holding and slowly lowered the gun. The trees were silent and the sisters remained still.

Staring at Stephen's body, Grace licked her lips and took another breath, whispering, "It's over."

"I wish I could keep this gun," Serra added, glancing down at the revolver.

Grace shook her head and made a face.

Serra rolled her eyes and flipped the revolver, holding it by the barrel to hand it to her sister. "Let's get to digging," she muttered, turning away from Stephen's body and walking towards the cars. "I'd like to get out of this hellhole." Bending to the ground to pick up one of the fallen shovels, she walked back towards Grace and took a deep breath.

Grace pulled a pack of alcohol wipes out of the duffel bag and began wiping the gun down, though she wasn't sure why. They would be burying the entire scene. She glanced at her sister as she began digging, behind the closest tree and pocketed the weapon, changing her mind yet again. Serra deserved a trophy from this fight.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The sun was just beginning to rise over the mountains in Missoula, Montana as Serra tossed the shovel down onto the dirt and leaned against her car, rubbing her face with her dirty hands.

"Holy shit, I forgot how hard it is to dig," she whined. "I've got blisters all over my hands."

Grace was sitting on a log across the clearing, resting her head on the palms of her hands, nodding slowly. "Yep," she agreed.

Serendipity stared at the dirt and sighed. "We didn't follow one part of the original plan."

"Nope."

Turning to face her sister, Serra tilted her head. "How do you feel about all of this? You okay?"

"Nope." Grace flicked her eyes up to Serra and shrugged. "I want to be, but…"

Serra plopped onto the ground next to Grace, staring up at her. "But you're not a hunter," she supplied quietly. "I mean obviously, you are. But not really. You've always gone through the motions, Gracie, but deep down," Serra faded away and took her sister's hand. "Deep down you're not a killer. You never have been."

Grace turned her attention towards Serra but remained silent.

"Dad knew, too," Serra continued. "He never liked putting you in the kill zone if he could help it."

Nodding slowly, Grace took a breath. "I've always done what needed to be done," she replied. "Feeling okay about it was never part of it."

Serra stood, still clutching her sister's hand, pulling Grace to her feet as well. "Come on, Big," Serra muttered. "I'll buy you a drink. One that doesn't have a roofie in it."

Cracking a smile, Grace nodded. "I'm still good at it," she added quietly. "Hunting?"

"Sister," Serra began, leading her across the open ground. "You're better at it than even I want to admit."

Grace nodded and chuckled as they approached the cars. "Alright," she sighed, shaking off her guilt. "Let's wipe down his car and leave it somewhere."

"You got an idea as to where?"

Pointing with her thumb, Grace gestured behind them. "Back at the bar where we were," she answered. "He'll just disappear."

Serra glanced at Grace and nodded once. "Goodbye, Earl," she muttered, shaking her head.

"What'll you bet that all of this comes back to bite us in the ass eventually," Grace whispered. "Long after we've forgotten about it."

Serra nodded as she leaned up against her Acura. "Knowing our luck," she began, flicking her eyes towards her sister. "Most likely."

…

Standing under the hot water in the shower, Serra watched the mud and grit drain away and listened hard as she heard a knock on the motel room door. She turned her head towards the closed bathroom door and shut her eyes, waiting for the conversation to begin.

"Housekeeping!" a voice announced.

Grace's voice answered almost immediately. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Yeah, it's okay. We're fine."

"No cleaning?" the voice asked again.

She could hear the polite smile in her sister's voice as Grace continued. "No, it's okay. No cleaning. We're leaving soon."

The elderly woman nodded her agreement. "Okay, thank you!" she replied, pushing her maid's cart further down the hallway.

Shutting off the water, Serra wrapped herself in a towel and opened the bathroom door, glancing around the disheveled room as her sister glanced up. "It was just the maid," Grace answered her questioning glance.

"Yeah, I heard," Serra replied. "We gotta get out of here. Place is making me all jumpy."

Turning towards the window, Grace added, "His car is the only one in the bar's parking lot."

Serra's voice was dripping with sarcasm, "That doesn't look suspicious."

Grace stared out the window, still holding the corner of the curtain back. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

"No argument from me," Serra said, throwing the hotel room towel on the floor and pulling on a shirt and jeans. "You got the cars packed?"

"Yeah," Grace answered. "I'm hoping I have enough gas to make it home."

"I've got about eighteen bucks," Serra responded, holding out a small roll of cash. "You have any more?"

Grace shook her head sadly. "This put me over," she muttered quietly.

Pursing her lips, Serra took a deep breath. "You wanna stash my car and siphon my tank? Combine our resources, you know, just enough to get us home and have this blow over?" She shrugged. "If nothing else, your car can get gone and we can come back for the Acura when all this is done."

"Where are we going to stash your car?"

Serra shrugged, flipping her wet auburn hair to one side. "That guy Bobby has a cabin up here, doesn't he? Or was it Rufus?"

"I'll call Billy and find out."

…

"Whitefish, Montana is a two and a half hour drive from here," Grace explained as she hung up the phone after talking with Billy Griffin. "It's Rufus' cabin."

"Two and a half hours?" Serra asked as she threw the last duffel into the back of Grace's car. "Alright," she sighed. "But that doesn't take the care of the fact that it's a twenty-hour drive back home. That's still too far to get on the tank of gas we have, and eighteen bucks won't be enough."

Grace licked her lips and rubbed her face. "I siphoned Stephen's car last night," she continued. "He had almost a full tank in that ugly-ass Beamer of his, so that's something. If we can get in touch with Rufus, maybe he will have an idea on where to put the Acura and we won't have to drive to Whitefish."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Grace leaned over and rubbed her face with both her hands. "This is what comes from hunting people," she said, her voice muted in the palms of her hands. "I feel like I'm having a stroke."

Serra bent down towards her sister and put a hand on her knee. "Stop thinking about him as a person," she whispered. "He was a monster, just as much as those vamps we hunted. Just as much as any djinn or werewolf." She licked her lips and closed her eyes. "This hunt didn't go smoothly, I know, but it's over and we've gotta get the fuck out of here before anyone starts asking questions."

Grace nodded slowly and held out the phone. "Your phone is dead, too. Out of minutes."

Serra took it and smiled ironically. "See," she sighed. "Things have to start looking up soon."

From across the room, the motel phone began to ring. Both sisters turned to stare at it, their pulses pounding in their ears. Slowly, Grace stood and walked towards the nightstand and glancing once more at Serra, she shrugged.

As her fingers touched the phone, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, "Hello?" she asked.

"Grace Browning?" a rough voice answered on the other end.

"Who is this?" Grace countered, turning to face Serra with her eyebrows furrowed.

The man on the other end clicked his tongue in annoyance. "This is two you owe me, little girl," he spat. "I ain't got no kids for exactly this reason: they always need something from you."

Grace narrowed her eyes and tilted her head slowly, "Rufus?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's me," he growled. "You need to get the hell outta Missoula. There's a call out for a tow truck in your parking lot for that ugly-ass German car. People gonna start asking questions." Serra joined Grace at the phone and they were both listening to the hunter on the other end as he continued. "I've got a storage unit near the university in Missoula. You're gonna leave the Acura in that lot and you're gonna siphon the shit out of all the other cars that you see on the way. Put the keys in the pine tree at the back of the lot and I'll take care of it. You can come and get it whenever, but you need to get gone."

Grace was nodding. "Pine tree. Yeah," she answered. "Okay."

"Killing a human ain't like killing no monster. There's gonna be questions and you're not gonna be there to answer them."

"Okay."

Rufus shifted in his comfortable leather chair, holding the phone against his shoulder as he poured a glass of Johnnie Walker Blue Label and swirled the contents slowly. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he continued, "Look," he sighed quietly. "I know you did what you thought was best and now the world is less one asshole." Rufus took a drink and licked his lips. "Truth is, there's a reason hunters don't hunt humans. Puts us on the map."

Grace knew he was right and silently agreed.

"This is the last time I'm gonna stick my neck out for a Browning."

"Yes, sir," Grace answered quietly.

Rufus lowered his voice. "You're gone in five. You drop that Acura and don't stop until you run out of gas."

Nodding again, Grace noted bitterly how familiar this speech sounded, especially considering that she heard it not too long ago.

Taking one last breath before he hung up the phone, Rufus added, "And I don't wanna hear your name brought up to me again, you hear? Billy Griffin can defend you until he's blue in the face, but as far as I'm concerned, you don't exist."

"Understood," Grace whispered. The phone clicked with finality as Rufus hung up and Grace closed her eyes and pressed the handset to her forehead. She swallowed hard and hung up the phone, glancing at Serra. "We're on the road in five."

Licking her lips, Serendipity nodded and didn't hesitate as she began throwing the remainder of her things into her leather purse. Throwing it over her shoulder, her hair was still dripping wet as she headed towards the door. "You wanna wipe the room?"

"I already did," Grace answered, glancing around. "His prints are gone, but I don't know about DNA. His hair could be here."

"Fuck it," Serra answered. "If they dig that hard in here, they deserve to find us. No one is gonna come looking him. No one cares about him; everyone that did is already dead."

Grace swallowed and nodded. "Here's hoping."

Three minutes later, the Browning sisters pulled out of the parking lot, headed towards Rufus Turner's storage unit at the other end of town. After leaving Serra's car keys in the pine tree at the end of the lot as instructed, the girls headed towards the highway, hoping the sirens in the distance weren't looking for them.


	19. Chapter 19

::This brings us to the last chapter of 'Church Bells'. I hope you enjoyed this Browning Sister story and helped you learn a bit more about what makes Grace and Serra tick. Coming up, we have the sequel to 'War' called 'Vengeance' which brings us back to Winchester Ranch. I hope you stick around...I've got plenty more where that came from. I just hit summer break and I will be able to write whenever I damn well feel like it. Come along for the ride.

Let me know how you liked 'Church Bells'! Leave a comment or a review. I love hearing what you think. Stay tuned for 'Vengeance'!

love and internetty hugs,

::TheGirlWithTheDinosaurTattoo::

...

...

Chapter 19

It had been two days since arriving back in Lawrence and Grace had hardly spoken to anyone. She hadn't been called to substitute since they had been home and the guilt and stress of killing Stephen weighed heavily on her, so secretly, she was happy to not have been called. Serendipity tried her best to throw herself back into the routine of the week, but worry about her sister plagued her mind. She had no idea what to say to Grace to convince her that they did the right thing, and the idea that Rufus had turned his back on them didn't set well with either one. They hadn't depended on him by any means, but knowing they had other hunters to call when things got bad was mildly comforting.

Serra got home late one evening and dropped Grace's car keys on the table, calling out her sister's name. "Grace?" she shouted to the dark and empty house. "You upstairs?"

She waited, but there was no reply, so she shrugged and headed towards the kitchen, hoping to find some sort of sustenance. It wasn't until she caught a glimpse of Grace's brown leather purse and cell phone on the counter, that she began to get worried. It wasn't like her sister to just leave without her phone or telling Serra first where she was going.

Serra hesitated long enough to lick her lips and glance around, but she picked up the phone on the countertop, flipped it open, and dialed the one number that she was still familiar with.

"Hey, Angel," Billy's familiar voice answered on the other end. "How you holding up?"

"It's Serra," she answered. "And not so good. Grace isn't here and she left all her stuff. Have you talked to her?"

Billy's demeanor changed entirely. "What do you mean she left all her stuff?" he asked, leaning forward on his stool, listening hard.

Serendipity shrugged. "I don't know, Billy," she replied. "I just got home from the restaurant where Grace used to work. They hired me as a washer. But she's not here. The house is dark and all of her stuff is still here."

"When's the last time you talked to her?"

"This morning when I left for work."

Billy closed his eyes and thought a moment, running his hands over his salt-and-pepper beard. "Head over to the Catholic church in the middle of town," he said quietly. "The evening mass bells will be starting soon."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Serra asked, turning to look at the clock in the back of the living room.

Billy smiled lightly, "You know a lot about your sister, Little," he sighed. "But you don't know everything."

"Yeah, alright," Serra muttered, rolling her eyes. "She's okay though?"

"Most likely," he replied. "Gracie's learning how to handle things. The church bells help."

Serra shrugged and said, "Yeah, alright. But I'm calling you back if I can't find her."

"You do that," Billy smiled.

…

Grace's car stalled as Serra pulled up in front of the Catholic church that was about three miles from their house. She shook her head, muttering to herself about clutches and gears and how she missed her Acura as she slammed the door to the Toyota.

Approaching the holy building quietly, Serra could see the candles that illuminated the inside of the church flickering from the stained glass windows. Avoiding the crowd of people that filed into the open doors, Serendipity jogged silently towards the back where the gardens of the church were. There, just as Billy predicted, was Grace, sitting silently on a bench in the middle of the rose garden with her eyes closed and her legs folded underneath her.

Without saying a word, Serra approached her sister and sat down next to her. She reached out and took her hand, holding it with both of her own, but Grace still kept her eyes shut. As she took a breath to speak, the echo of the bells interrupted Serra; ringing through darkness as the mass began. She closed her eyes and listened, sitting quietly next to Grace.

After the night stilled, Serra took another breath to speak, but changed her mind and simply sat, still holding Grace's hand. Grace took the opportunity instead, and with her eyes still closed, she said, "I'm fine, Serra. I'm just…"

"Dealing," Serra supplied.

Opening her eyes, Grace nodded slowly. "Yeah," she answered. "Being an adult is hard."

Serra cracked a wry grin and stared up at the stained glass. "Yeah," she agreed, "but you're really good at it."

"At least I'm good at something," Grace replied.

"You're good at a lot of things. I just might be better."

Grace chuckled and glanced at Serra, rolling her eyes, "You wish."

"Billy says that after two weeks, we probably don't have anything to worry about," Serra explained. "You think he's right?"

Shrugging, Grace put her legs down and stretched as Serra let go of her hand. "I don't know, but I can tell you one thing, Luck."

"What's that?"

"We're only dealing with real life for the next few months. Maybe even years. No hunting, no friends, no men. Just get our shit together and keep our heads down."

"I'm not agreeing to no men."

Grace lifted her eyebrows and tilted her head. "Yeah, alright. Just no men that we might have to kill. I'm not digging any more holes."

"Deal," Serra stood and offered her hand to her sister. "Can we get out of here? The bells creep me out. They're judging me."

"Shut up," Grace smiled, taking her hand. "They're comforting when they're the only thing I can hear."

Serra rolled her eyes as they walked together out of the rose garden. "You've got some issues, big sister. Makes you sound a little crazy."

"Only because I've been dealing with you my entire life." Grace reached for the keys as they headed for her red Toyota hatchback. "And stop stalling my engine. You're gonna wreck the transmission."

Serra rolled her eyes as she got in the passenger side. Hesitating, Grace smiled to herself as the final church bells chimed into the night reassuringly and she knew, deep in her soul, that both she and Serendipity would be fine.


End file.
